The Red Violin
by Sandylee007
Summary: Derek Morgan has always been a ladies' man who can get anyone he desires. But then a case introduces him to a mysterious violinist named Spencer Reid. And he'll never listen to violin music the same way again...    SLASH MorganxReid    MILD AU
1. Intro

A/N: Now that I've completed one project, it's time to jump on another. (grins excitedly) This story is the second runner up in my 'Next CM-story' –poll. (The poll's still open, btw…)

THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart, for all those fantastic people who've voted already! (glomps)

FULL SUMMARY: Derek Morgan has always been a ladies' man who can get anyone he desires. But then a case introduces him to a violinist named Spencer Reid, a witness who apparently has several secrets. Derek whole life is turned upside down in a matter of days. And he'll never listen to violin music the same way again… MorganxReid MILD AU, with Reid not working as a agent

WARNINGS: SLASH, AU (albeit with splashes of canon), sexual themes, gore… Yeeeah, I think the rating 'M' is justified. (sweatdrops) Uh… Anyone still out there…?

DISCLAIMER: 'CM' just returned with season 7. My name's still not in the opening credits. (pouts, and swallows down a sob) (Dang, writing that hurt…)

Awkay… (takes a deep, shuddering breath) I suppose it's time to stop stalling and get going, eh? I REALLY hope you'll enjoy the ride!

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><p><strong><em>The Red Violin<em>**

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><p>The interrogation room was suffocatingly hot as unit chief Aaron Hotchner stared unblinkedly at the man sitting on the opposite side of the table. "I'm asking you again. After that you will be offered no chance for a deal of any sort. If you don't help us now, I won't be able to help you, either", he announced in a tone that would've chilled just about anyone's spine. His eyes changed, became those of the dangerous vulture. "Where is he?"<p>

The other's eyes finally met his. There was amusement, almost mockery in them. "Do you believe that you can still win this game, agent?"

Aaron squeezed the edges of the table so hard that his knuckles turned white. Fire burned in his veins, and he had to remind himself that he couldn't give the other man the pleasure of him losing his composure. Nothing changed on his face as he spoke again, his tone eerily calm. "Once more. Where is he?"

The other man smiled, revealing a row of white teeth, then leaned closer to him as though about to trust him with a great secret. "Agent Hotchner, I'm sure you've read my file. Do you honestly think you're going to find him alive?"

For a couple of moments Aaron simply stared at the monster before him. Then he did the only thing he could under the circumstances.

He got up, turned around and left the room, his steps betraying nothing of the inferno rising inside him. The interrogation room's door made a hollow sound when closing behind him.

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><p>Intro<p>

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><p>'<em>It is usually more important how a man meets his fate than what it is.<em>'

(Karl Wilhelm von Humboldt)

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><p><em>Six Months Earlier<em>

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><p>Derek Morgan opened his eyes and woke up. As simply as that. Then took a deep breath that filled his surprisingly tight lungs with much needed air. And slowly the nightmares that'd been circling around him only a heartbeat ago faded away.<p>

He groaned and rubbed his face with both hands, exhaustion caused by the sleepless night before crashing down on him.

He should've known that it was a mistake to have a night of pleasure right after coming home from a case.

He finally shifted his hands from his face, only then noticing what'd been drawn to the palm side of his hand. A tiny heart. So he hadn't been just dreaming, after all. He wished he would've been able to at least remember the name of the woman who'd marked him.

Stifling a yawn Derek shifted so that he saw the other side of the bed. He wasn't all that surprised to find it empty. It was rare that his visitors stayed until sunrise.

He stretched, wincing a bit upon discovering that he was still sore from the reminders of the previous case, then pushed himself out of the bed. It took longer than he'd remembered to reach the bathroom.

On the way he took a glance towards his dog Clooney, who lay on the living room's floor looking back at him. He could've sworn the canine was glaring at him. "Hey, I'm not taking any judgements from someone who licks his own ass", he scoffed.

Clooney gave a small bark, then shifted so that his behind was towards him. Derek rolled his eyes and entered the bathroom. He turned the shower's water as cold as he could bear, then stepped in and let the water wash him numb.

It felt incredibly good to not feel a thing for a while.

He didn't even manage to dry himself properly until his cell phone began to ring. With a frown he made his way to the device and groaned upon seeing name 'Hotch' on the screen. "You've gotta be kidding me", was his opening line.

There was a sigh on the other end of the line. "_I know we only just got home yesterday, but there's no other team to take over this case. Get here for a briefing as soon as you can._"

"I will", he promised in a far from excited tone, then hung up.

With a sigh he lifted his gaze to find his reflexion on the bedroom's mirror and shuddered.

He loved his job. So where had that empty place inside him come from? Why wasn't his current life enough for him anymore?

* * *

><p>Spencer Reid opened his eyes and woke up. As simply as that. Then took a deep breath that filled his surprisingly tight lungs with much needed air. And slowly the nightmares that'd been circling around him only a heartbeat ago faded away.<p>

He blinked twice, feeling exhausted although he knew he must've been sleeping for a long time, and noticed that there was a crack on the ceiling he'd never noticed before. Or no, actually, he had noticed it before – it'd just been a lot smaller. Now it formed what looked almost like a heart, the lines clearly pronounced against the ceiling's gray.

Stifling a yawn Spencer shifted so that he saw the other side of the bed. He wasn't all that surprised to find it empty. It was rare that his visitor stayed until sunrise.

He stretched, wincing a bit upon discovering that the activities of the night before had made him sore, then pushed himself out of the bed. In his small apartment it took less than fifteen steps to reach the bathroom.

Spencer turned the shower's water so hot that it made the skin of his hand red when he tried it, then stepped in and let the flood wash over him. For a moment of bliss it wiped away all thoughts and feelings, even physical sensations.

It felt incredibly good, to not feel a thing for a while. Not having to think was even better.

He dried himself absentmindedly, then headed towards the kitchen. He froze by the doorway upon noticing what his visitor had left to the table.

A single, scarlet rose.

Approaching slowly he picked up the flower and brought it to his nose, then inhaled deeply. As the scent filled his head his thoughts began to spin.

This was how it was supposed to be. His visitor always left him with just a rose. So why didn't this feel like enough?

Spencer frowned.

Yes, perhaps he was a little bit lonely. But he should've grown used to that by now – this lifestyle was his own choice. So where had that empty place inside him come from? Why wasn't his current life enough for him anymore?

* * *

><p>The rest of the team was already in the conference room when Derek marched in, hoping that he didn't appear as exhausted as he felt.<p>

Fool's hope.

Emily Prentiss raised an eyebrow at his appearance. "Apparently someone didn't manage to get a lot of rest last night."

David Rossi also seemed openly curious while eyeing him. "Anyone we know?"

Derek cleared his throat while sitting down, not really feeling like answering any questions at the moment. "Let's just focus on the case, okay?

"Whatever you say, loverboy", Penelope Garcia commented, visibly amused.

For once Derek was actually relieved to see the certain look from Aaron that silenced the entire group. For a long, uneasy moment the unit chief's eyes lingered on him – as though evaluating – before shifting to a view of the full team. "Now that we're all here, let's get started with the case." He glanced towards Jennifer Jareau, letting the media liaison step forth.

JJ's eyes gave a warning that brought a sinking feeling to the pit of Derek's stomach. This was going to be a very, very long case. "Chief William Reid from North Las Vegas police department contacted me four hours ago and said that he has a potential serial killer in his hands. He says there's a wave of thirteen murders over the past nine years, the murders having taken place in various states. The four last ones have taken place in Vegas, the newest one a week ago." And then the flow of pictures began, filling the room with sickening splashes of red. The first one was of a white teenage girl, who stared at the sky with half open dead eyes. Derek didn't know what color her shirt had been – now it was all red. "Brenda Ennis, age fifteen. Found stabbed to death on August 11th 2002." The next picture was a lot more gruesome, because apparently this victim had put up a fight. Both of the approximately twenty-years-old, strikingly beautiful hispanic woman's arms had been shot. She had, however, bled to death from multiple stab wounds on her stomach. "Imana Lewis, age twenty-two. Killed April 21st 2004. She was only five minutes away from her home when the killer ambushed her." The next picture had them all confused. This time instead of a girl there was a middle aged couple. They'd been killed into their car. The man had been rendered immobile by a gunshot, and Derek had a sickening feeling that he was forced to watch as the unsub slit his wife's throat before stabbing her repetitively to the chest. Then the attacker killed the man as well, with a neat gunshot right between the eyes. "Hanna Thompson, forty-two, and Phil Thompson, forty-six. They were on their way home from visiting friends when the killer lured them to stop and butchered them on October 8th 2004."

"The victimology changed", David mused out loud.

JJ nodded, her expression grim. "The unsub went on a killing spree soon after that." Another picture, another pair of lifeless faces. This time two young men, one white and one who's skin held a slight touch of mocha. They were both stabbed to death, and there also seemed to be some blood covering their most private parts. Derek couldn't chase away the thought they the killer may have struck there first. They'd been butchered into a large bed, with only their boxers on. "Oliver Hardwick, twenty-four, and Micah Princeton, twenty-five. They were a quite open couple, and for a long time this was considered a hate crime. They were murdered intp Hardwick's home on November 11th 2004." JJ flashed the next picture without giving them a breather. Another couple, this time much younger and dark skinned, in a extremely tiny room. There was blood everywhere and the couple lay in the middle of it, clearly staged into a macabre final embrace. They were both naked, which made the wounds on them stand out. "Pauline Welsh, twenty-nine, and Travis Welsh, thirty, newlyweds. They were found stabbed to death from their basement on December 6th 2004. Again the husband was killed first." JJ took a couple of long seconds before continuing. "The killer took a break after this. The next murder connected to this unsub was on February 2007." This time they were shown the picture of a man at around Derek's age. Again the man had been killed into his own car. There was a gunshot wound, along with a neat cut across his throat. "Rhyes Henry, thirty-one. He worked as a police officer and he was on his way home when something made him pull over."

By then the room was filled with shocked silence. Derek felt sick to his stomach, and Aaron, David and Emily appeared a lot more tense than usual. Penelope had a horrified expression on her face, and Derek wished he would've managed to comfort her. But as it was the picture claimed his attention all over again.

They'd seen a lot of horrific things. But this… He didn't remember facing anything like this ever before.

This killer was a monster brought to life.

When no one else spoke JJ continued although she clearly wouldn't have wanted to. "After this the unsub, apparently, had a long break and moved on to Vegas." A new picture. Another young girl, this time a petite redhead. She was curled into a fetal position in the middle of a desert. Derek could've sworn he saw tears in her dead eyes. Due to her position it was impossible to see the damage and there was no blood on the ground – the killer must've brought her there. "Yvonne Fornel, eighteen. The local police found her body on December 20th 2010." Once more the picture chaged. This time it was a man in his late thirties, lay quite neatly on his couch. Letters F.A.T.E had been drawn to the wall behind the couch with the man's blood. His hand was placed to the stab wound on his chest, as though in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding. "Jonah Atkins, thirty-nine. His wife found him like this when she came home with their children. It was March 14th 2011." And then came the last picture. Another couple – the man sitting on the driver's seat, with several gunshot wounds on him, and the woman lay on the ground before the car, stab wounds marring her slim frame. A sigh escaped JJ, and she appeared throughoutly exhausted. "Linda Marsh, forty-two, and Curtis Marsh, forty-five. A flat tire forced them to pull over."

"This doesn't make sense", Emily commented with a frown on her face. "The methods and victimology… They don't match. Is this really a serial killer?"

JJ nodded and swallowed. "The unsub has a couple of… habits that connect these murders. The killer always takes something meaningful from the victims – rings, watches, photographs… The item's always found with the next victim." She glanced towards the last picture before focusing on them again. "The unsub also draws the Eye of Providence to the scene with the victim's blood, or carves it to the victim's body. Sometimes the letters F.A.T.E are added."

It took the team a while to digest these news. Omnivore? That was rare. Rare, and very dangerous. This killer was patient enough to wait for several years, but when the unsub did strike…

"Does the police have any clues?" Derek found his own voice inquiring.

JJ shook her head. "None that the killer wouldn't have wanted them to find." She ran a hand through her hair. "The police calls the killer 'The Reaper'. They asked us to help them find this unsub, before even more people die."

"This is going to be one of the most challenging cases we've faced this far." The look on Aaron's face sent chills through the team. "I know you're all tired, but we need all our focus on this case if we want to stop this killer. We'll take off in half an hour."

Derek barely noticed how the rest of the team left the room.

He'd never believed in fate all that much. But at the moment there was this burning in his veins he couldn't explain. He felt more alive than in ages.

And the unnerving part was that he had no idea why.

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><p>TBC, OR NOT?<p>

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><p>AN: Soooo… (gulps) Before I let myself REALLY fall in love with this story, I've gotta ask your opinion. Does this sound any good, at all? Or should I just delete this once and for all?

**PLEASE,** leave a review to let me know your thoughts! It'd seriously mean a lot – I'm always horribly insecure when it comes to first chapters. (gives puppy's eyes)

Thank you so much for reading this bit! Who knows, maybe I'll be seeing ya again. (glances hopefully)

Take care!


	2. The Boogeyman

A/N: A timely update! Hooray?

BUT, first of all… WOAH! Gosh, you guys. (beams, and GLOMPS) So many amazing reviews…! You can't even imagine how much it means to me that you loved the first bit so much. (hugs again) You guys are the best! (**Responses to anonymous reviews **can be found from underneath the chappy, in the order in which they came.)

Awkay… (takes a deep breath) I suppose it's go-time, eh? I REALLY hope you'll enjoy this bit of the journey!

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><p>The Boogeyman<p>

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><p>Derek Morgan had never enjoyed heat all that much. That's why the air of Las Vegas wrapping around him seemed to suffocate him.<p>

He really, really hated it when a car's air conditioner failed him.

Finally Aaron Hotchner parked the vehicle right outside the police station. As soon as the entire team emerged a middle aged man walked out of the building, squinting a little against the sun. "I'm chief William Reid. You're the BAU team, right?"

Jennifer Jareau nodded and shook William's hand. "I'm Jennifer Jareau. We talked on the phone."

Aaron took a step forward, also shaking the man's hand. "I'm unit chief Aaron Hotchner. These are agents David Rossi, Derek Morgan and Emily Prentiss."

William nodded, a great deal of gratitude and relief appearing to his eyes. "I'm really glad you were able to come here this fast." They entered the building and Derek was pleased to feel cool air caressing his face. "It's only a matter of time before the killer strikes again and I'd rather not watch that happen on my territory."

"Do you have any leads so far?" David inquired.

William sighed. "Honestly? This psycho's playing around with us. We have a ton of files on the confirmed and suspected victims, though. I understood you could use them. We gathered them to the conference room for you. And… There's something else." The man's eyes flashed slightly. "I only just found out that there's one victim who survived. It was one of this killer's first suspected homicides. 2006 the killer attacked a young couple on their way home from their engagement bastard made a cut across the woman's eyes and stabbed her six times, damaging several organs. Against all odds she survived but she's blind. Her fiancé wasn't as lucky. He was dead by the time the ambulance arrived."

Aaron's facial features stiffened. "Does the killer know she survived?"

William shrugged. "I don't know. The press was asked to remain quiet but that wish wasn't exactly respected. The woman moved from Vermont to Las Vegas as soon as she was well enough. She was supposed to become a doctor. Now she's studying international relations. Her name is Aimee Hudson. She lives in one of the university's building's. I can give you her address."

Aaron nodded, then focused on the team. "Morgan and Prentiss, go and visit her. The rest of us, we'll go through those files. Maybe they'll reveal something that'll help us build a profile on this unsub."

They all nodded, then scattered. They were all very much aware of the fact that there was no time to waste. As he left the station with Emily Derek could practically hear how seconds ticked against them.

The killer would strike again soon. He couldn't help wondering if they'd be able to track down this monster before it was too late.

He really didn't like the bad feeling swelling in his stomach.

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><p>Spencer Reid enjoyed taking the bus, really. Despite the amount of people he somehow managed to find a way to isolate himself, to get lost into a crowd. That day, however, he was feeling a little bit too restless to really enjoy himself.<p>

Taking a firmer hold on the violin case he was carrying he glanced towards his other hand, which was squeezing a envelope almost convulsively.

_'Make sure your father sees this. I'm sorry_', said the hasty words written on it.

Spencer's eyes narrowed with unfamiliar dark feelings that made him feel uneasy in his own skin. He really, truly didn't want to do this, but the request left little to be argued. Besides, he'd already postponed this unhealthily long.

Maybe this would be like ripping off a bandaid, mild pain that'd fade away quickly.

The thought almost made a bitter laugh break through his lips. Since when had the matters of his family been that easy?

He snapped out of his thougths with a shiver when the bus jerked to a stop. He just had to blink a couple of times. The university already? How long had he been zoning out?

Shaking that thought from his head he left the bus hurriedly, then made his way into one of the more isolated buildings of the campus. The familiar air inside immediately calmed down his nerves, helped his completely stiff muscles melt a slight bit.

He was a grown man with three doctorates and an IQ of 187. He'd survived this far, endured all alone. He'd come too far to be disturbed by his father any longer. Today he'd prove that much, to both of them.

With that thought he entered the elevator, never noticing the eyes observing him.

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><p>Less than half a minute after Spencer had abandoned the elevator its doors opened once more downstairs.<p>

For some reason Derek had never been a huge fan of elevators. That's why he took a sigh of mild relief while stepping out.

Emily gave him a look as they made their way towards the opposite end of the surprisingly long, somewhat hollow hallway. "I never imagined you to be claustrophobic."

He gave her a warning look. "I'd really appreciate it if you didn't tell Rossi", he growled.

Emily smiled in a sweet way he didn't quite manage to trust. "My lips are sealed." She then nodded towards a certain door. '_Hudson, A._' "That's her place."

She knocked and they waited for what felt like a small lifetime before first hearing sounds from behind the door – a dog barking, a woman giving it a firm order, a unidentifiable screech. Then the door opened, revealing a smallish woman if her early thirties with long, black hair. Hard as he tried Derek couldn't help looking at the scars covering her milky white eyes.

"Aimee Hudson?" Emily inquired. After a terse nod his colleague went on. "I'm SSA Emily Prentiss and this is SSA Derek Morgan, we're with the FBI."

Aimee frowned with a visible amount of mistrust, blocking their path. At that moment a Rottweiler appeared to her side, giving them a far from friendly look. "Yes?"

"We undertood that you and your fianceé were attacked 2006", Emily explained in a voice Derek couldn't remember hearing before. "We're after a serial killer, and we have strong suspicions that it's the same perpetrator. We'd like you to answer some questions – it might help us catch him."

Something flashed on Aimee's face and for a moment Derek was sure she'd slam the door at their faces. Her eyes narrowed. "Before I say a word I want to make sure you have badges. I've had enough of all the reporters harassing me."

Derek pulled out his badge and placed it to the blind woman's hand, keeping an eye on the canine that didn't seem to like him touching his or hers master. "There's mine."

Aimee ran her fingers on the badge's surface for several seconds. Her muscles relaxed ever so slightly when she handed the item back. "I'm sorry, but I've learned that one can never be too cautious." She gestured towards the inner parts of the apartment, advancing there with her dog following. "I will answer your questions although I'm not too sure how useful I am. My memories of that day are hazy at best."

"We really do appreciate this", Emily poined out, her voice filled with sincerity as she stepped through the door and followed the younger woman. "We know that this isn't easy."

Aimee nodded stiffly, feeling her way into the living room and finally sitting tensely to the couch, the dog taking its place on the floor before her. Her breathing pattern changed dramatically while she waited for them to sit as well, then spoke. "So… What do you want to know?"

Derek was slightly hesitant to begin. In all honesty he was far from sure that this woman could take the weight of bringing all these memories to life.

He shivered when Aimee seemed to look directly towards him all of a sudden. There was a strange look on her face. "I relive what little I remember of that day a thousand times every single day, agent. So trust me, whatever damage you end up doing… It can't be worse than what's already there."

Derek grit his teeth, then spoke in that tone he always wore on duty. "What do you remember of the attacker?"

Aimee fidgeted, momentarily looking ready to escape. It clearly took a lot of her willpower to stay still. "He seemed about ten years older than me, athletic. He… He was waiting for us on the side of the road. He had a car, a black Honda. He said he had a flat tire." She frowned, clearly focusing. "His voice… It was deep." She glanced towards Derek's direction. "Much deeper than yours. And his eyes… I think they were blue. I can't be sure, though. It's been years, and in my mind's eye the color keeps switching between brown, gray and blue almost every day. I didn't see much of his features – it was very dark. And to be honest I didn't really pay attention to his face. I kept staring at his knife. I can still recall what the blade looked like when moonlight caressed it." She gave them a wry, tiny smile. "That's all I remember. He was the last thing I ever saw."

"Let's forget about sight." Finally, for the first time since this case began, Derek felt fully alert and ready. Profiling was in his spine – his instincts were quick to take the lead. "You said he had a deep voice. He spoke to you. What did he say?"

When Aimee shuddered he realized that he'd most definitely hit something. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself and a deep line appeared between her eyes. "He told me… He told me that he wanted to see my eyes – he wanted to see me die, the exact second he wanted me to. He told me that Alex would be watching, too. After the third stab he told me to stop crying, that death wasn't such a bad thing. I screamed, and then he made a cut across my eyes." A couple of tears slipped to her cheeks and she squeezed her arms so tightly that nails must've dug through fabric to her skin. It wasn't until then Derek noticed that she was still wearing the engagement ring Alex gave her. "Do you… Do you know what's the worst part?" She swallowed hard. "Most days I think he was right. Maybe dying wouldn't have been such a bad thing, after all."

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><p>The university's auditorium was Spencer's favorite place in the entire world, and not only because of its breathtakingly amazing acoustics. In the security of those walls only he and his music existed. There was no audience – he'd never been a huge fan of crowds, anyway – no distractions whatsoever. Just he, his violin and the music. That's why he kept visiting there almost every day although he'd had his first degree over half a decade earlier.<p>

He closed his eyes, feeling how his body relaxed completely, then gave his violin the first couple of caresses. The instrument was quick to accept his request and the sound was everywhere around him, even absolutely everywhere inside him.

His heartbeat increasing and his whole being filling with need Spencer allowed his hand to deliver some more pleas, which the violin returned instantly. And in a matter of moments he was completely lost in the world of sound and feeling. The music gained a life of its own, took over all of him. He surrendered gladly. Subtly yet inevitably he and the instrument became one.

The music consumed him so completely that he didn't even notice that he was no longer alone. Not until arms wrapped around his waistline.

Spencer gasped, his eyes flying open and electric jolts coursing through his body.

"I know you've asked me not to touch you while you play…", a soft, deep voice murmured into his ear, so close that he felt a breath of warm air that made him shiver. "But with that look on your face… I just couldn't resist."

Spencer swallowed upon feeling a hand exploring what his pants wouldn't be able to cover soon enough with the excitement swelling in him. His eyes scanned frantically through the huge room in a violent search for a potential pair of seeing eyes. "Not here", he hissed out, although it sounded like a plea. He gasped faintly when the other kept proceeding. "Someone… Someone could walk in. You'd be…" His voice faded away.

His companion chuckled while long fingers moved inside his pants, making it increasingly hard to bite back a small cry. "Don't try to fool me." While one hand caressed his most private parts the other rose to where his heart was beating madly. "I can feel this, all of this. And I've seen you, in the night. The element of danger allures you a lot more than you let on."

Spencer swallowed convulsively, feeling how the other trembled behind him. "It allures you, too", he observed out loud.

His companion gave a laugh, such he didn't recall hearing before. "It's like I've always said, doc." The other pulled him closer in a way that clearly signaled that those hands wouldn't be letting him go easily. "We have a lot in common."

Spencer gasped, fearing that he might suffocate if the other wouldn't take a step further soon. This was far too intense for him. His body, however, seemed to have very different requests. His back arched closer to his companion the same moment he tilted his head backwards, and he closed his eyes. He even emitted a moan that made heat of embarrassment rise to his cheeks.

"Let it go", the other urged him, the hands that seemed to be all over his body becoming more demanding, almost aggressive. He felt something against his back and quickly realized that he wasn't alone with the feeling of bursting. "Just let go. You'll be surprised by how good it feels."

Spencer tried, he really did. But this time he just couldn't fight the temptation. Not when his entire body was screaming for mercy.

He put down the violin, as gently as he possibly could, and emitted a tiny cry when the other was suddenly all over him. Those hard hands, those soft lips… They found each and every weak spot on him and he would've been brought to his knees if the other hadn't been fast enough to catch him. Instead of the floor he was brought quite harshly against the wall, and he nearly lost his breath completely when the other's scent circled hungrily around him. All sense of control vanished from him. The most terrifying part was that he was alright with it.

The next scream he gave, that of sheer pleasure, was left echoing into the room's walls for several moments.

* * *

><p>The drive back to the station from Aimee's apartment was filled with thoughtful silence. Now, at last, they had some pieces of a profile.<p>

They were after a strong, athletic man in his early forties. A psychopath who gets a great deal of satisfaction from being in control. That was what they'd have to start with. Those were all the pieces of the puzzle they had at the moment.

Derek finally managed to focus on Emily when they were in the station and she spoke. "I'm going to tell Hotch what we found out."

He nodded, trying to clear his head. What was it with him today? "I'll go and report chief Reid. Maybe then we can try and build some sort of a profile."

She nodded, then continued on her way. Planning on doing the same Derek turned and took a step – only to realize that he really should've paid more attention to where he was going. Because in a second he found himself colliding with someone and there was a surprised gasp, followed by the sound of a takeaway coffee hitting the floor.

Derek swore under his breath. This really wasn't his day. "Oh, man…! I'm sorry, I..." He lifted his gaze, and suddenly it was quite hard to remember what he was supposed to say.

Staring back at him was a younger man with somewhat messily cut brown hair and wide eyes of the same color that made something twist uncomfortably inside him. The man was pale aside the hint of a hue on his cheeks. The sensation of familiarity was so strong that for a moment Derek's entire body responded.

The other man shifted his weight restlessly to other leg, desperately trying to smile. "It's… okay. I'll just buy another one."

Derek sighed, chills going up and down his system all of a sudden. It took longer than it should've to find his wallet. "No way. Hang on a second." When he handed some money towards the stranger it felt disturbingly hard not to reach out his fingers a bit further and…

The brunet looked up at him and blinked twice. "Huh?"

Derek had hard time keeping himself from smiling just a little bit. This guy… He really wasn't much good when it came to social situations, was he? "Your coffee", he explained, still holding out the money. "I'm buying you a new one."

The brunet frowned, his body language changing to a slightly more accepting direction. "I know that, but you don't have to. Besides, this is too much. A takeaway coffee costs…"

Derek lifted his hand, unsure if he wanted to roll his eyes or smile at the rant he just knew there was on the other man's tongue. "I know, I know. It's no problem, okay?"

The younger man appeared hesitant for a couple of more moments, but then shifted with visible discomfort and accepted his offering. And smiled, in a way he'd never seen before. "Thanks."

At that moment Derek was powerless against a smile of his own. Something he just couldn't identify swell inside him, startling him with its overwhelming intensity. "Well, you're welcome", he managed.

The brunet opened his mouth, but before the words could be spoken a bald, slightly overweighed police man in his mid-forties appeared, instantly focusing on the younger man. "Hey there, kid. Long time no see." The man gestured towards William Reid's office. "Chief can see you now."

The younger man nodded stiffly, his whole body language changing again in a way that confused Derek. Was that… anger he saw? Once more those brown eyes met his. The smile wasn't as emancipated anymore, but still there. "Thanks again."

Derek nodded back with a new smile of his own, for some reason not finding a word. All he could do was watch as the brunet gave him a tiny wave and walked away from him.

Derek knew he should've focused on the case that'd just been handed to the team, but he found his body and mind glued to the spot. His eyes never left the brunet as the man headed towards the office, soon disappearing from his line of vision. He could've sworn that the stranger's scent – or perhaps it was some sort of a essence? – had been left lingering into the air.

He kept staring at the door, as though hoping that the man might return, until David's voice cut through the static filling his head. "You okay?" He turned to find a frown from the older man's face. "You seemed pretty out of it."

Yet again Derek nodded, desperately trying to set his head straigth. What the hell had come over him? Was he coming down with something? "Yeah, I'm fine." Quite miraculously he managed to become at least slightly more coherent. "Did the files reveal anything?"

"Bits and pieces", David announced. "But chief Reid wasn't lying when he said there's a ton of material. We'll need a gallon of coffee."

Derek's eyes flashed as he nodded one more time, then followed David to the conference room. This was not the part of his job he was looking forward to. What made it even worse was that hard as he tried he couldn't quite push the brunet he'd just met out of his head.

It wasn't until quite a while later he realized that he'd never even asked the stranger's name.

* * *

><p>Spencer's head wasn't working straigth as he walked away from the police station. That's why he ended up to a neighborhood only a couple of minutes away from his home he usually preferred to avoid.<p>

And he froze, struck paralyzed.

A car – a blue Mercedes – had been parked nearby. At first he didn't quite catch what the dark hooded figure hovering around the vehicle was doing, but when he did his blood froze. The was a knife in the stranger's – definitely man's – hand. The knife was covered in blood, and more and more red appeared everywhere with each time the weapon moved. There was a young couple in the car. The man, white and in his mid-twenties with dark hair and blue eyes, was obviously dead with a gunshot wound directly between his eyes. The man's fists were balled and there was blood under his fingernails. Spencer could've sworn he saw tears in those half open, dead eyes. Tears of bitter helplessness. The man had failed to protect himself – and the woman beside him. The car's passenger, a woman with long ginger hair and the greenest eyes Spencer had ever seen, had her mouth open in a hopeless, soundless scream of terror. The attacker had, however, already stabbed her at least ten times and her shirt was completely covered in blood. And as Spencer stared she gave her final, ragged and wet breath. A trail of blood spilled from her mouth as her eyes glazed over.

Spencer must've gasped – with shock, disgust, fear, sadness and helplessness – because just then the attacker turned, slowly yet surely. Turned and saw him.

The man looked at him, he coud tell although he couldn't see the eyes, seemed to stare right through him. The air between them vibrated with threat as he stood frozen, unable to flee although every singly cell in his body begged him to escape. He licked his lips and fidgeted, but couldn't make a move. His heart thumped with such speed that the sound seemed to deafen him.

And then the attacker began to move.

* * *

><p>TBC, no?<p>

* * *

><p>AN: Aaaand the suspense is on. (shudders)

Soooo… Was that any good, at all? Do you consider this story worth continuing? **PLEASE** leave a review and let me know your thoughts! It'd totally light up my day. (gives puppy's eyes)

Ugh, I'm supposed to go to work soon so I'll have to tune out now. But, first…

IN THE NEXT ONE (in case you want such, of course): The latest attack pushes Morgan and Reid closer to each other, whether they're ready for it or not. The sparks are easy to see – but someone's getting in the way… Meanwhile, William Reid gets an offer that's quite hard to refuse. The story's next bit would be 'Psychodrama'.

Until next time, folks, with whichever story that may be!

Take care!

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><p><strong>ilovereid<strong>: A new story it is! (beams) I'm really glad the first bit wrapped you around its little finger.

Mountain sized thank yous for the review!

* * *

><p><strong>a botobsessed<strong>: I'm so happy to hear you enjoyed the 'teaser'! (beams)

Awww, you know Reid. Of course he'll be amazing with a violin!

Mega sized thank yous for the review!

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><p><strong>Hatsuharu M<strong>: As you wish. (grins) That chapter seriously didn't fullfill my MorganxReid –vibes, either. May the bubbling start in the next chapter… (smirks cheekily) I really hope the next one won't be a disappointment!

Loads of thank yous for the review!

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><p><strong>Courttany<strong>: Awww, since you asked so nicely… (starts typing more)

Lots of thank yous for the review!

* * *

><p><strong>nicolethecrazyone<strong>: That's so, so good to hear! (beams)

Massive thank yous for the review!

* * *

><p><strong>KaL KeY<strong>: I'm very happy to hear that the first bit intrigued you. (sighs happily) I truly hope the next one turns out worth your expectations.

Colossal thank yous for the review!

* * *

><p><strong>Cece<strong>: How could I not write more after such kind words? I really hope you'll enjoy the next Reid. (grins)

HUGE thank yous for the review!

* * *

><p><strong>unknown<strong>: Awww, I'm so thrilled to hear that! (grins from ear to ear) I really hope the next one turns out worth looking forward to.

Gigantic thank yous for the review!

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><p><strong>Avesona23<strong>: Hiya there! I'm so happy to see you again. (beams) AND, even happier to hear that you enjoyed the first chapter.

I'm a real sucker for detailed writing. I'm ecstatic to hear you like it, too! (As well as roses and 'ghost stories'…) And ooooh, there's so much M-rated material coming as soon as I dare to truly bring this story to life… (smirks wickedly)

It'll be very interesting to let the relationship of our beloved 'boys' develop when things are THIS different from the canon. (grins) I can't wait to hear if you were right with your suspicions! Let me know, pwease? (gives puppy's eyes)

Enormous thank yous for the amazing, flattering review! (gives some cookies) I REALLY hope the ride to come turns out worthy of your expectations.


	3. Psychodrama

A/N: GAH, I'm sorry that it took a bit longer than the last time, but my head's been acting up on me again. (rolls eyes at oneself)

FIRST OF ALL, though… Thank you so much for those absolutely amazing reviews! (GLOMPS) They're really, really precious to me, ya know? So THANK YOU! (hugs once more)

Awkay… (takes a deep breath) I suppose there's no avoiding it any longer, eh? I REALLY hope ya'll enjoy this piece of the ride!

* * *

><p>Psychodrama<p>

* * *

><p>Despite that fact that he'd been a federal agent for quite some time Derek hated entering fresh crime scenes. Seeing the work of those maniacs, all the blood, the evidence of all those lives stolen… It always chilled him to the bone. That's why he was far from enthusiastic when the team was informed them that the unsub just struck again.<p>

By the time he, Aaron, Emily and David made it to the scene a body was just removed from a car. He swallowed and shivered.

Aaron showed the young male police officer with shortcut black hair and sad blue eyes waiting for them his badge. "Are you sure it's the same killer?"

The officer who nodded didn't seem to be taking it all any better than Derek did. "All the signatures are there. The victims are Monica Ashton and Phill Dawson. Something made them pull over and the killer was on them in a flash. Phill put up a fight but it wasn't enough." The younger man's eyes hardened slightly. "This time he got a surprise, though. There's a witness. A man walked in on the killer, who hit him to the head with something. He was taken to the hospital."

Emily's eyes widened slightly. "Who was it?"

The officer hesitated for a while before answering. "Dr. Spencer Reid."

They all shuddered at the name.

"Reid?" David spoke out loud. "As in…?"

The officer nodded solemnly. "Chief's son." The man sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Chief went to the hospital as soon as he heard. I haven't heard any news."

"Morgan." There was a flame in Aaron's eyes. This could be a great chance for finding fresh clues. "Go to the hospital, find out if he's able to give any information."

Derek nodded. "I'll call you as soon as I know something." As he left the scene electricity filled him. It was like he was headed towards one of those fated moments Penelope Garcia talked about.

There was a frown on Aaron's face as he stared at the scene, furiously trying to catch the pieces of a puzzle scattered everywhere before him.

Who was this killer? How were they going to get close enough to understanding his mind to catch him?

"Hotch." The tone of Emily's voice caught his attention. There was a taut look on her face that brought him chills. "Aimee Hudson… Didn't the unsub take her earring?"

Aaron nodded, the frown on his face deepening. And then he noticed what lay on her glowed hand. It was a earring, a handmade butterfly with at least ten colors. Most definitely Aimee's.

It was a message.

Instantly his instincts kicked in and he took his cell phone, starting to make phone calls. He could only hope they weren't too late already.

* * *

><p>When Derek reached the hospital the first person he ran into was William Reid. There was a somewhat bleak look on the man's face as he leaned heavily against the wall.<p>

Derek felt a bang on sympathy. "Any news?"

William sighed, his shoulders slumping. "He woke up a while ago. They threw me out when he started getting anxious."

Derek frowned and was about to ask, but just then a female doctor in her late forties with shortcut blond hair and brown eyes emerged from a nearby room. She saw William and instantly walked up to them. "He's going to be just fine", she assured William. "He has a concussion and a small wound on his shoulder, but otherwise he seems physically fine, given the circumstances. We had to give him a little bit of mild sedative to help him calm down, though. We'd like to keep him here overnight for observation."

It was then Derek stepped in. He showed the doctor his badge. "I'd like to ask him some questions. Is he well enough to answer?"

The doctor nodded, appearing far from enthusiastic. "But try to keep it brief. He's rattled by this experience and needs rest."

"I will." He moved towards the room and frowned upon noticing that William didn't follow. "Aren't you coming?"

William responded with shaking his head. There was a haunted look in the man's eyes.

He nodded, confused, then entered the room. And this time he was the one left blinking owlishly.

Because there, sitting on the edge of the hospital bed looking fully ready to speed out of the entire place, was the exact brunet who hadn't stopped messing with his head since they first met.

The younger man lifted his gaze. Given the circumstances Derek wouldn't have been surprised if the brunet would've had absolutely no idea who he was. Instead those brown eyes widened ever so slightly, filled with recognition.

Derek took a step forward, coming to a conclusion that offering a hand to shake would've been a humiliating experience to them both. "I'm SSA Derek Morgan, I'm with the FBI's…"

"... BAU team, I know." Spencer's voice sounded slightly tight, guarded. It was impossible to tell if it was because of what'd just happened or something else entirely. The brunet licked his lips – a nervous habit, apparently. "William told me you'd come."

It took Derek a lot to hide his frown. _'William', huh?_ What kind of a father and son were these two? He forced himself to act like a professional even thought a huge part of him was far from content. He had absolutely no idea what it was he would've needed to be satisfied. "I understand if you're not ready for it yet, but I'd like to ask you some questions."

Spencer shook his head. Something in those eyes flashed in a way that allured him deeply. "I got a concussion, so I must've lost bits here and there. But…" The man frowned, looking like he'd wandered to some place else entirely. It was easy to tell that a flood of images flashed by his eyes that fluttered like he'd been about to fall asleep. "He… was well built, athletic. He was wearing black pants and a grey, hooded sweater. There was a black mask on his face, so I couldn't really see him. He didn't speak to me, didn't say a word. And his body language… He was stiff and awkward when he approached me, although he was comfortable with the couple. It was… like he was afraid of me." The man's hand shook when he revealed his shoulder. There was something a bandage hid. When the younger man removed the bandage Derek felt sick to his stomach. It was the Eye of Providence. "He… gave me this. I've heard rumors that he gives the similar to everyone he…" The brunet trailed off and gulped several times, appearing mildly nauseous, and shook his head. "I… I don't understand why he didn't kill me." It took a while before their eyes met, making him shiver. "I don't know if that was any help."

Derek nodded slowly, mystified. Had this man really been hit to the head? "Thank you", he stated, meaning it from the bottom of his heart. "I know it wasn't easy to relive all those memories, so I'm…"

To his surprise Spencer shook his head with a somewhat grim expression. "It's… not like I could forget, anyway." It wasn't until a split second before the brunet slammed a hand to his lips and dashed somewhat awkwardly towards the bathroom he noticed how pale the younger man had gone. "'Sorry…"

In all honesty Derek didn't really know what to do. He had a feeling that the brunet might've valued some privacy, but for some reason he was powerless to leave. And so he headed to the bathroom as well, rubbed soothing circles to the brunet's back as the man threw up. He tried to ignore how much Spencer stiffened to his touch, how his very presence seemed to upset the younger man. It seemed they were both bad at stuff like this.

"Better?" he inquired quietly, almost sure that Spencer had a headache.

Spencer nodded slowly, still very stiff but close to a wry smile of some sort. "Apart from humiliation, yeah", the brunet replied hoarsely.

Derek shrugged. And although it was possibly the most inappropriate place and time to feel so, he found himself close to emitting a laugh. Something bubbled inside him. "You know what they say", he said off-handedly. "Nothing breaks the ice like a bout of nausea."

He didn't think anything had ever made him feel quite the way the look Spencer darted his way did. The younger man wiped his mouth with his hand and swallowed, then winced. "Could you… give me a glass of water? This taste in my mouth may just make me feel sick again."

Derek complied quickly, taking a plastic mug he saw on the bathroom's shelve and filling it with cold water. He waited until the color on the brunet's face was a bit closer to what he considered healthy until he spoke. "It's good to finally know your name. But I really wish I'd learned it under different circumstances."

The look that appeared to Spencer's face was most likely the closest thing to a smile the man could manage considering what he'd been through. "That makes two of us."

So there they sat for a long time, on the floor of a hospital room's bathroom, in silence they both seemed to find comfortable. Derek didn't know how worried he should've been about the fact that he was enjoying himself more than he did on most of his dates.

* * *

><p>In Aimee Hudson's apartment the only sound piercing the absolute silence was that of her cell phone ringing. After a while the call was directed to a voicemail, leaving everything suffocatingly quiet – dead – once more. Only shadows moved, gently making their way over the brutal sight unfolding.<p>

On the floor splatters of blood were rapidly turning black. In the middle of the sickening pool lay Aimee's dog, half open lifeless eyes reflecting a forever image of the monster they'd last seen. The little steel visible from the knife plunged to the canine's side shone like silver.

On the other side of the room Aimee stood against the wall, only held up by the hand that'd thrust a long knife into her stomach. Cold sweat lingered on her contorted face like a field of diamonds, and her lips were open for a scream that'd never come. Her hand was covered in blood as she held it on the steel, almost touching her attacker.

She felt his warm breath as he leaned closer. "As soon as I pull out this knife you'll bleed to death. Do you understand?" She wasn't sure how she managed the feeble nod she gave. The man emitted a pleased sound. "Good, very good. You know, Aimee… You're a very intriguing person. Even now you don't know how to stop fighting, do you? It's a real pity I have to kill you." The knife was plunged just a little bit deeper but she couldn't feel the pain. "You really shouldn't have broken our deal. 'Keep your mouth shut, and I'll let you live.' That's all I asked of you. But now… You're going to help me deliver a message."

As Aimee gasped in her final, wet breath the tears on her cheeks were those of relief.

* * *

><p>Night was turning into a morning and Derek was just taking down a yeat another mug of coffee, desperately trying to sort out his chaotic head, when William walked to him. There was a somewhat tense look on the man's face.<p>

He frowned. "Is everything okay?"

"Can I ask you to do me a favor?" The older man sighed, appearing utterly exhausted. "Spencer… He wants to leave the hospital but he's going to need someone to take him home. Do you think you could give him a ride? I know your team is busy with the case, but…"

Derek couldn't understand the jolt those words caused inside him. He nodded without even thinking. He knew he should've been focusing on the case, that he should've been helping his team, but… "Yeah, of course." Besides, maybe Spencer would remember more about the attacker.

Relief made the lines on William's face ease slightly. "Thank you." The man looked away with a unreadable expression. "I… almost lost him last night. I want someone to make sure he's safe."

As he left ten minutes later Derek didn't know that Aaron and David observed his distancing back. The older men exchanged frown filled looks.

Entering Spencer's hospital room quite soon after Derek felt some heat on his cheeks as he realized that the younger man was just getting dressed to his own clothes. Despite the situation he just had to smile at the neat beige pants, white shirt and brown vest that looked so… _Spencer_ that it was incredible. His smile widened still as he noticed that there were four books on the table beside the hospital bed and one more in the brunet's hold. "Did you really read those all while you've been here?" he asked with undisguised bafflement.

Spencer turned with a look of mild startle, dropping the book from his hands, then blinked with surprise. "Hey. I… wasn't expecting you."

He shrugged, unsure where the sizzle everywhere inside him had come from. "Well, you need a ride and I've got a car. Do we have a deal?"

Spencer seemed to relax slightly, even gave him a tiny smile. "Only if we can get coffee on the way." The brunet winced, appearing appalled. "What they call 'coffee' in this place tastes like it's been taken from sewer. My head is screaming for the real thing." Those eyes meeting his were nothing short of pleading, and Derek had hard time stiffling a laugh.

"Sure thing", he promised. He couldn't resist a cheeky grin. "Let's hope your coffee doesn't end up all over me this time."

Spencer just rolled his eyes and grabbed his bag.

The ride towards Spencer's apartment was quite pleasant, full of about a million jabs of facts and statics from Spencer that Derek secretly found endearing.

Perhaps it was the security that made Derek approach what should _not_ have been touched. "Your dad… I noticed that you call him 'William'. Why?"

The way the younger man tensed up completely was a clear enough sign that he'd just pushed his luck too far. "Could you… please not profile me?"

"Okay", he murmured, giving himself a mental kick. "'Sorry. I know it's a nasty habit."

Spencer didn't speak. This time the quiet that came felt colder than ice.

The tension loaded silence lasted a lifetime until Spencer's voice drifted to his ears. "He left when I was ten." The brunet's tone was dramatically different from the one he'd heard in the hospital, and the younger man's eyes were nothing short of hostile as they stared at nothing in particular. "He came back two years ago, for work."

Derek frowned, feeling tingling under his skin for some reason. He was getting dangerously greedy, but his tongue was faster than his reason. "So it was just you and your mother?"

Spencer's expression reminded him chillingly of a trapped wild animal. The man's posture and breathing changed, to a point where he feared the brunet might simply jump out of the car and run. Instead, however, Spencer nodded forward with a stiff motion. "You… should get going, before those behind us get any more irritated than they already are. We've got a green light."

Derek nodded, irritation stinging him like a flame, and drove.

They were both deep in thought as they finished the journey to Spencer's apartment building, then made their way to the younger man's door.

They were already stood behind the door when Spencer looked at him with a innocently confused expression. "You wouldn't have needed to walk me all the way here."

"Sure I did", Derek responded faster than he'd known to expect, and felt a touch of embarrassment. "You heard the hospital policy. Someone had to make sure you get home safely."

Spencer looked at him for a moment and smiled. "I'll be perfectly safe in my own home", the brunet pointed out, with body language Derek would've desperately wanted to understand. Whoever said women were harder to read than men had clearly never met this particular doctor. "Statistically…"

Derek rolled his eyes. "You already fooled the statistics once, remember?"

Spencer opened his mouth, but whatever had been about to spill through became cut short. Instead the younger man licked his lips and ran a hand through his hair, shifting. "Thank you, for doing this."

Derek shrugged. At that point he couldn't suppress a grin of his own. "No problem." He gave a somewhat awkward wave. For some reason it seemed his feet were glued to the floor, and the tension rising inside him was becoming such that unnerved him. He hoped his hand was at least relatively steady when he handed the other man his card, feeling like a damn five-year-old. "Call me if there's anything wrong or if your head starts to act up."

Spencer's expression drifted between amusement and annoyance. "It's just a concussion." When the brunet accepted the card their hands brushed together, became dangerously close to tangling. "Thanks anyway."

Although absolutely everything inside him howled against the decision Derek took one step away, then another. "I'll see you later."

Spencer nodded. "Yeah. See you."

And so they parted ways, he disappearing into the hallway and Spencer into his apartment. Or parted in some ways.

Derek sat in his car for about ten minutes, going through a inner turmoil that terrified him more than anything he'd ever faced, until he managed to speed away. Spencer, on the other hand, leaned against his door with his hand on the doorhandle for those same endlessly long minutes until he decided that he needed a cold shower.

Both were blissfully unaware of the third figure that'd stood in the shadows, waiting. Soon after Derek had left the observer moved soundlessly towards Spencer's door.

Entering the apartment's kitchen, Spencer found a bouquet of red roses waiting for him.

* * *

><p>As Derek entered Aimee Hudson's apartment half an hour later and faced the sight waiting for him he did the one thing that, despite being unprofessional, felt natural.<p>

He swore, loudly.

Two forensics in their all-white uniforms were examining Aimee's corpse, going through her like she was nothing but a piece of evidence. There was blood _everywhere_, and he could see marks of tears on her cheeks. She looked painfully still and empty, like a puppet of some sort.

The killer hadn't failed this time.

That was when he noticed what'd been written to the wall behind her with her own blood. '_Fate, by The Reaper_.' "The son of a bitch named himself this time", he hissed barely audibly, rage seeping from his very core.

Emily's voice managed to startle him a little. "The killer knew exactly where to strike." Her voice held a bitter overtone. "He stabbed her and let her bleed. It's possible that he stayed and watched."

His face felt painfully tight when he looked at her. "We can't let the press find out about this. If he gets all this publicity…"

Emily's face appeared stiffer than usual. "JJ won't be able to do a thing to stop this." The woman's eyes darkened when they swept over the desolate view. "This will be all over the newspapers. The Reaper is at large in Las Vegas."

Derek's chest felt painfully tight and his eyes narrowed.

At the moment all they had against this monster was a very vague profile, and Spencer. A breeze of cold brushed his skin.

"Spencer." He looked towards Aimee's dead body and felt sick to his stomach. "He needs to be protected."

"Hotch is already on the phone", Emily announced, making his stiff muscles ease ever so slightly. "We'll see what he manages."

He nodded, only marginally relieved. He wondered if any amount of protection was enough against this psychopath.

He jumped just a little bit when his cell phone bleeped demandingly in his pocket. He picked up instantly when discovering who the caller was. "Baby girl? What's going on?"

"_I tried to call Hotch but his line was busy._" She sounded agitated and he couldn't help wondering if it was a sign of good or bad. She gulped so loudly that he heard it. "_I… I just found something I really think you guys should know._"

His eyebrows knitted together as sizzling sped through his veins. "What is it?" His tone was sharper than it intended, but at the moment it failed to concern him.

"_Spencer and Aimee aren't the only survivors._"

* * *

><p>There was a frown on Spencer's face as he stood before his bathroom's mirror without his shirt on. His eyes were glued to the Eye of Providence carved to the skin of his shoulder. He reached out his fingers towards the wound – until a foreign hand grabbed his wrist.<p>

"Stop poking it", a deep male voice commanded from his behind. "It'll get infected."

The frown on Spencer's face deepened as he leaned closer to his lover. "I'm just trying to figure it out." He tilted his head and brought a hand to the mark, suddenly self-conscious. "The killer… He must've realized that I'm a witness, a threat. Why did he let me live?"

"Haven't you figured it out by now? And you're supposed to be the genius out of us two." Hot, demanding lips crashed against the tender skin of his neck, making him gasp. "You… are a very special case, doc."

Shivering from a mixture of emotions he couldn't quite name Spencer groaned when the other's curious wandering hands were once again all over him, screaming demands. Flashbacks of the masked attacker flooded into his vision and he let his fingernails sink into his lover's skin, squeezed his eyes shut as tightly as he could and growled.

He was _not_ about to let his head get the better of him again.

The other chuckled. "Well… Someone's impatient today."

"Just do it", he hissed through tightly grit teeth, letting the aggression that usually slumbered deep inside him seep towards the surface. He wanted the burning under his skin to fucking stop. He wanted to stop feeling like he was about to explode.

His wish was granted. And the upcoming hours of sheer pleasure were almost enough to wipe away everything else.

He did notice, however, that his lover's hands were rougher than usual, that the kisses and tiny bites were harder. And a tiny part hiding in the back of his head was left wondering why.

* * *

><p>Having suffered several sleepless nights, William Reid was almost falling asleep behind the steering wheel as he made his way towards home, a headache rising somewhere behind his eyes. He was so deep in thought that he practically jumped on his seat when his cell phone started ringing.<p>

Taking a deep breath he pulled over and gave the cell phone a glance. He frowned upon noticing that there was no caller ID. He picked up after a second of hesitation. "Chief Reid."

"_I want you to listen to me carefully_", a smooth yet dangerous voice practically hissed at him. And in a icy flash he knew who the caller was. "_I spared your son although he saw me. And now I want you to return the favor._"

William's eyes narrowed. "I don't make deals with psychopaths", he hissed.

"_Oh, but you will accept this deal. Believe me._" There was a taunting pause. "_If you stop hunting me I'll stop hunting them._"

William's heart stopped for a couple of seconds and a foul taste rose into his mouth. It took a while before he managed to speak. "Like I said… I don't make deals with people like you. I make sure they get locked up."

"_Well, if that is the case, let me assure you…_" This pause was even more dangerous. "_You'll regret this, William._" With those words the killer hung up.

William could barely breathe as he stared at the phone in his hold. Somehow the air around him felt several degrees colder than before.

And the shadows dancing on his hands looked like dried blood.

* * *

><p>TBC, no?<p>

* * *

><p>AN: And so things get a bit more chilling. (shudders)

BUT, the important question is… Was that any good, at all? Or is it time to go back to drawing board? **PLEASE, **leave a review to let me know what you think! You can't even imagine how happy hearing from you guys would make me. (gives puppy's eyes)

In case you're curious to read more, HERE'S A TASTE OF THE NEXT ONE: The team is introduced to someone who helps them get closer to the Reaper. But is everything as it seems? Reid also finds himself unable to step away from the case, which leads to things heating up between him and Morgan… The next chappy would be called 'The Big Game'.

Until next time, folks, I hope!

Take care!

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><p><strong>PodPeep<strong>: Ah, what a interesting idea! (grins) I'm a huge sucker for violins of all sorts, so we'll see.

Colossal thank yous for the review!

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><p><strong>CCstudent<strong>: I'm REALLY glad to hear that.

Gigantic thank yous for the review!

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><p><strong>Amanda<strong>: After such kind words I could never announce that the story's been buried, so… (grins) I hope you'll enjoy the next one as well.

Huge than yous for the review!

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><p><strong>Hatsuharu M<strong>: I'm thrilled to hear that the story's wrapped you around its little finger so! (beams)

Heh, let's hope Morgan gets his turn soon. Those two are so cute together! And that they get an actual happy ending in this one…

Gigantic thank yous for the review!

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><p><strong>Katsakura<strong>: Lots of questions, no? Let's hope they'll all be answered soon.

I really hope the update turns out worth the wait!

Monumental thank yous for the review!

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><p><strong>nicolethecrazyone<strong>: You sure know how to appeal to me. (grins) I'm thrilled to hear you were so pleased with the previous chapter! I hope this one delivers as well.

Loads of thank yous for the review!


	4. The Big Game

A/N: Yosh! Ya know, it was a insane struggle for me to get this chapter going, but when it did it sort of wrote itself. (grins, then shudders) Kind of creepy. We'll see just what kind of a text such a flow produces… (shudders again)

BUT, first… THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart, for all those amazing reviews! (glomps) It's your love that rocks this story forward, ya know? So thank you!

Awkay… (inhales deeply) There's no dodging it any further – it's go-time! I really hope ya'll find this worth joining in.

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><p>The Big Game<p>

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><p>As the team had feared the Reaper became famous. In a matter of twenty-four hours his name was on the lips of pretty much every inhabitant of Las Vegas. That fame only intensified with his latest attack.<p>

Bus number 32 never made it to its final stop during one of its nighttime rounds. As officer Devlon Ackles went to investigate he came across a sight that'd be burned into his nightmares for the rest of his life.

The driver and every single one of the five passengers had been butchered brutally. There was blood pretty much everywhere in the bus. All the victims had a number carved to the flesh of their exposed chests.

A couple of hours later Derek's eyes were dark and hard as he stared at the pictures taken at the crime scene, working his hardest to focus on the numbers instead of the blood.

The Reaper was toying with them, and it was really, really getting on his nerves. For now those numbers were their only lead, along with the new witness Penelope had discovered the day before.

George Foyet's girlfriend had been killed by the Reaper, and the man himself had come an inch from dying. Now the man had disappeared like a ghost, leaving them with nothing to grasp on.

How the hell were they supposed to catch this guy?

All of a sudden his full attention was, however, led elsewhere as he heard somewhat hesitant approaching steps. He couldn't understand the response his body gave when he discovered Spencer stood a slight distance away. There was a nervous look on the brunet's face.

Without really knowing why Derek smiled. "Hey. What are you doing here?"

Spencer bit his lip, glancing towards William's office. "William told me to come here as soon as possible." Those eyes found his, and Derek had no idea what to do with himself. "It's about the Reaper, right? He's already killed one witness."

Derek nodded slowly, not knowing how the younger man was going to react to the news. "We all want to make sure you're safe. For now it's not a very good idea for you to go anywhere alone." The last thing he wanted was to see Spencer's name and picture on the board.

Spencer frowned, clearly not happy with the news, then looked around. "Where's everyone? I thought your whole team's here."

"Rossi and Prentiss are checking out the crime scene, JJ's busy with the reporters and Hotch is talking to yo… William." He fidgeted, feeling somewhat uncomfortable in his own skin. "It's just you and me."

It was then Spencer noticed the board behind him. At first the man's brown eyes filled with a storm of emotions when they spotted all the victims and blood, but then a frown of something close to curiosity appeared. "Those numbers… They're a message, right? From the Reaper?"

Derek nodded. Of course he knew that he shouldn't have been telling an outsider inside information, but he couldn't control his tongue around Spencer. "We believe so, yeah. But we haven't figured it out yet."

Spencer seemed to be in some sort of a trance. This time there was no hesitation or insecurity in the brunet's steps as they approached the board slowly. The man's eyes were full of concentration, and Derek could practically see the wheels turning in his head. It didn't take long before Spencer's lips began to move.

Derek was so mesmerized by the sight that it took a very long moment before he heard his cell phone. It was Penelope. "Hey, baby girl", he greeted.

"_Well 'hi' to you, too. I already thought you'd disappeared on me all of a sudden. What's going on?_"

Derek cleared his throat, attempting to do the same thing with his head. "I… Spencer just showed up, that's all." Not quite sure why that topic made him feel uncomfortable he attempted to lead the conversation elsewhere. "Did you figure out something?"

"_I'm sorry, but George Foyet is like a ghost – can't really blame him after everything he's been through, though. He doesn't have a credit card or even an apartment. His parents were murdered when he was just a child. I'm thinking about trying a search with his mother's maiden name._" The pause that followed was a clear warning signal of what was to come. "_Derek… Is everything okay? __I heard you haven't been yourself in Vegas._"

"I'm fine, just a little stressed out. Just like the others." Derek frowned, getting a really bad feeling of where the conversation was headed. "What's with the third degree? I'm not the UnSub here."

Penelope sighed and held a small pause, most likely trying to find the right words. "_I know that tone of voice. It never promises anything good._" She went on before his attempted comeback could break through. "_You know I think you're excellent at what you do – you wouldn't have this job if you weren't. But I also know that sometimes you have the tendency to… letting things get under your skin. You let people too close._"

Derek folded his free arm to his chest, subconsciously shielding himself. "What's that supposed to mean?"

His best friend's voice sounded sadder and quieter than usual. "_Derek… You still remember how things turned out with Ellie, don't you?_"

Derek's eyes narrowed and he grit his teeth as hard as humanly possible. That was the closest thing to a hit below the belt Penelope had ever given him, and although he knew it to be irrational he felt a feral, violent need to defend himself.

He never got the chance to, though. Because just then Spencer's voice carried to where he stood. "Derek." The younger man's eyes were slightly wide, filled with a mixture of surprise and almost childlike excitement. At that very moment the brunet looked more relaxed than Derek had ever seen him so far.

A shudder crossed Derek's body. "I've gotta go. I'll call you back later", he told Penelope, then hung up despite her protests and focused on Spencer. "What is it?"

Spencer licked his lips, gesturing wildly with his hands. "These numbers… They're a code, and not even a very complicated one. It's only a matter of finding the correct order and the matching letter."

Derek felt a shudder and took a step closer to Spencer without even noticing it. "What does it say?" he inquired in a tight voice he often found himself using whenever a case was close to reaching a breaking point. It felt like something had been about to burst inside him.

Spencer's eyes met his, dangerous and incredibly innocent at the same time. "_'No deal_'."

Derek's lips opened without him having the slightest clue of what he was about to say, but no sound got the chance to make it out. Because just then they heard glass breaking and both spun around in alarm.

Not that far behind them stood William Reid, his face completely white and his eyes filled with sheer terror. The man had dropped the mug of coffee he'd been carrying.

Aaron, who'd been approaching them with the older Reid, gave the man a very loudly speaking look. "Is there something you haven't told us?"

William swallowed, appearing nauseous. "I… think we need to have a talk."

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><p>William was fidgeting on his seat when Aaron entered the man's office once more. And although he had a fairly good picture of what'd happened between the man and his son in the past he couldn't help feeling sympathy towards William.<p>

After all he was a father as well. He couldn't even imagine how he would've felt in a similar situation.

"Spencer said that he has a concert tonight", Aaron announced, realizing from the way William jerked that the man hadn't even heard him enter. He held a tiny pause to give the man a chance to compose himself. "Morgan is going to watch over him, along with two officers in civil clothes."

William nodded, focusing on the room's window with a distant, foggy look in his eyes. The silence stretched for a while. "That's good. I… already had a busfull of people killed."

Aaron's eyes narrowed. He was not about to let the chief go down this road. "It wasn't you – don't ever think that. It was the Reaper. We have a strict policy against making deals with criminals. You did the right thing."

William gave a tiny, bitter laugh, finally looking at him. There was a haunted look in the man's eyes. "That would be a lot easier to believe without those damn pictures of the victims hanging all over the place and the crying family members calling me constantly, demanding me to catch that son of a bitch." The older man looked away again and grit his teeth hard. "And I'm not stupid. I know I put my son into the line of fire."

Aaron sighed, realizing that no words were going to ease the burden sitting on the other man's hunched shoulders. He took his time before responding. "We'll catch the Reaper as soon as we can. Until then we'll do everything we possibly can to make sure he doesn't get the chance to harm anyone else."

William nodded slowly, his features relaxing the slightest bit. "Good. Because…" The man breathed in deep. "Spencer's all I have. I'm not going to lose him."

The silence that filled the office was full of understanding.

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><p>Derek knew that he couldn't really ask Spencer to stop leading his normal life. He also realized that the brunet was most likely in the safest possible place while performing on a stage. But no amount of reasoning kept him from fidgeting as they were together in a tiny, closet like room right below a huge stage and he watched the younger man getting ready for a concert.<p>

In the end Spencer noticed his looks and didn't seem to know what to make of such attention. "Could you please stop looking at me like that? You told me yourself that the profile is clear. He won't strike in a place like this – he's too careful."

He sighed, unable to understand the workings of his head. "I know", he admitted. "But I still think it'd be the wisest to not take any unnecessary risks."

The look Spencer darted his way through a mirror gave him a very disturbing feeling that the younger man understood something he didn't. "Hmh." The brunet then smoothened the nonexistent wrinkles on his shirt and headed towards the room's toilet. "I'll be back in a second."

As soon as the younger man had closed the door between them Derek's eyes traveled downwards, towards where Spencer's violin had been rested lovingly. It was made of reddish wood, which made it appear rare and expensive. And despite himself Derek couldn't help wondering exactly what kind of a sound such a magnificent instrument would be able to produce. Before he knew it he was already approaching.

Derek knew that he was pushing the limits of Spencer's privacy – and not for the first time, either – but he couldn't control himself.

His hand was soft, almost tender, as he ran it on the wood and admired the color. It was a warm, rich shade of red he knew to be rare, without any cracks whatsoever. He could tell the instrument had been treated with a great deal of affection.

Making sure that he was as careful as possible he lifted the violin, surprised by how light it was. After a long while of hesitation he gave the instrument a couple of soft caresses. The raw, sharp sound that came out made him wince.

How the hell was it possible to bring out something beautiful from that piece of wood?

He was just about to put the instrument down when he realized that it was too late. For he lifted his gaze upon sensing a presence and felt his mouth grow dry. Spencer was stood by the toilet's doorway, staring at him with eyes he'd never seen before. Was that… rage he saw?

_Oh shit…!_ "I… I'm sorry", he tried although the words tasted flat. "I didn't…"

"I never gave you the permission to touch it", Spencer nearly hissed through tightly grit teeth. The man's balled fists trembled.

Derek swallowed, wondering how in the world he was going to get out of this one. "I really am sorry", he tried again. He took a deep breath, letting the rest slip out before he got the chance to see it coming. "My mom… She used to play, too. It brought back memories."

Little by little some of the storm faded from Spencer's eyes and those clenched fists eased slightly. "Just… Just put it down, okay? Before you break it."

Derek obeyed instantly, not wanting to risk anything more. As soon as he did Spencer approached, taking the violin with smooth, gentle motions. It took a long moment before the younger man spoke. "You can't force it", the brunet adviced, taking his turn with the instrument. It reacted instantly to its rightful owner, unleashing the most beautiful notes Derek had ever heard. "You need to treat it with love and respect. Otherwise it won't respect you, either."

The brief melody he'd just heard was still tingling in Derek's veins, making it hard to focus. "How long have you played?" he half whispered, as though afraid he might disturb someone.

Spencer's eyes were soft as he gave the instrument another, longer caress. The melody spun around the room, beautiful and untamed. "Since I was four. This violin is the best present I've ever had." Suddenly those brown eyes met his, trapping him to the spot and moment. "Your mom… Why did she stop playing?"

Derek gulped again, feeling cold and exposed. This was something he'd never spoken out loud before, even to his nearest and dearest. He was very, very uncomfortable with the thought of exposing himself like this, but somehow those eyes stripped him from all armors and restraints. He swallowed thickly, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat. "My dad… He died, when I was a child." He took a deep breath, embarrassed to discovered that it shuddered. "I've never heard her play since."

There was no pity in Spencer's eyes, only sincere understanding. "I'm sorry."  
>There was absolutely nothing Derek could say to that, so he simply nodded. It took what felt like ages before he found a trace of his voice. "Let's… Let's get you to the stage."<p>

Spencer simply nodded, and they left the tiny room side by side.

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><p>How long was the traffic light going to remain red?<p>

Emily groaned and tried desperately to find a more comfortable position on the passenger's seat of the car.

She and David had spent pretty much the entire day at the crime scene and morgue in a somewhat desperate search for any clues whatsoever. That after a couple of nights without pretty much any sleep. She was exhausted, hungry and felt dirtier than she had in ages. All she wanted was to get to the hotel for a shower, a proper meal and some time in a comfortable bed. Instead David was driving them back towards the station where the seemingly endless chase could continue.

Those bitter thoughts were cut when David finished his phone call with a expression that gave her a warning. "Well?" she demanded.

David's jaw tightened for a moment. "It was Aaron. Apparently the Reaper offered chief Reid a deal he rejected. That led to the bus massacre."

Emily emitted a small yelp of startle when David made a sharp U-turn. "What the hell are you doing? Are you trying to get us killed?" she snarled.

"I also got good news." David gave the rearview mirror a glance before choosing a new lane. "The maiden name of Foyet's birth mother was Matthews. Garcia was able to find an address of one George Matthews. Aaron told us to check it out. JJ's trying to distract the media from getting a clue about this."

Slowly getting used to David's far from healthy driving speed Emily arched an eyebrow. "Where's Derek?"

David was silent for a couple of meaningful moments, taking a sharp turn to the right. "Watching over Spencer Reid during a concert."

Emily frowned, cold shivers going through her for some reason.

She knew Derek was straigth. Hell, the man was infamous for the amount of ladies he'd brought home. That's why the concerns nagging in the back of her mind made no sense.

She glanced towards David to discover a extremely tight expression on the man's face. "You look like this is something we should be worried about."

David was quiet for a mighty while, obviously wondering if it was wise to voice what was spinning in his mind. "Trust someone who's been there, Prentiss." The man turned left, startling a woman who'd been thinking about crossing the road. "I know the signs. And I know it's not going to end prettily."

Heavy silence filled the vehicle for the rest of the drive.

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><p>Derek had never been to a concert of classical music before. He'd always thought he wouldn't have the patience to sit through one. Today, however, he came to discover that staying alert and entertained was the last thing he had to worry about, and not just because he had to keep an eye on all signs of threat towards Spencer. The young brunet – a genius, it seemed – was everything that existed in his world.<p>

The music began slowly and quietly, reminding him of a tiger sneaking closer to its unsuspecting pray. Spencer's eyes were breathtakingly alive, full of hints of what would soon erupt. Derek could almost feel the electricity dancing on the brunet's skin, and the feel caught him as well, made him shiver. Then, almost without any warning whatsoever, the music intensified and _exploded_. Derek couldn't understand how anyone's hands could move like Spencer's did on the violin, the motions incredibly tender and screaming commands at the same time. The instrument obeyed without a hint of doubt, bending eagerly to its master's will. As the music began to grow more silent and serene once more the sound of violin sneaked through, so subtly that a less careful ear might've missed it altogether. Then, as subtly as it'd stepped forward, the violin quieted down once more, blended to the rest of the music with what sounded like a exhausted yet very pleased sigh. Like a lover that'd had all their needs fulfilled.

Derek gasped once, only then realizing that he'd been holding his breath, blissfully unaware of how tight his pants had become as certain parts of his body reacted with excitement to the young genius. And then he _felt_ something entirely different.

Derek didn't know how it was possible that something disturbed him in such a situation, but a deep frown appeared to his face exactly two seconds before he turned his gaze to right.

There, stood in the shadows, was a man with shortcut hair the color of which he couldn't see, arms folded and a unreadable expression on his face. About a million flashes and colors could be seen in the stranger's eyes as they drank in the view of Spencer with apparent delight.

Obviously Derek wasn't the only one mesmerized by the young man's music.

Derek knew that he had the nasty habit of being possessive. But he'd never felt anything as dark as what crossed his being just then.

Perhaps sensing him the other man turned his gaze and their eyes clashed. Even with the demeaning smile there was something chilling in the stranger's eyes when measured him up. He let his own eyes narrow, accepting the challenge. On stage the music became faster, much more aggressive. Like a rattlesnake giving its final warning before the attack.

And Spencer let the music drown him, unaware of the drama in the shadows.

Derek revealed a row of teeth, sending the same message a lot of wild animals do when losing their temper. The stranger, on the other hand, gave a smirk that revealed everything necessary and looked pointedly towards the stage. Spencer looked back not much later, and Derek would've given a lot for a chance to read the brunet's mind.

After a couple of more heated beats the music came to a violent, abrupt stop. While the rest of the audience, including the stranger, exploded to a thunderous round of applauds Derek found it surprisingly hard to breathe. He stared in daze as the stage emptied, furiously trying to understand the surges crashing and roaring inside him.

So suddenly that he blinked Spencer had disappeared from his line of vision. Only a few moments later he came to discover that so had the stranger.

Once more Derek's eyes narrowed and he unleashed a growl that didn't sound entirely human.

_Son of a bitch…!_

He was quickly on the move – after all, he'd never been blamed on being hesitant. He wasn't entirely sure what instinct it was that led him downstairs. But as soon as he'd fought his way through the crowd to get there he heard quiet talking from a tiny break room.

"_George, stop that._" That voice was, without any doubt, Spencer's. The urgent tone made the hair in the back of Derek's neck rise."_Anyone could walk in._"

"_So let them._" The older man's tone was smooth and light, but there was a undertone Derek didn't like. He would've much rather not recognized the sounds that followed.

"_Your job…_"

"_Fuck it._" The 'George' was obviously wearing thin when it came to patience. The tone sounded close to a growl. The heated noises and gasps that followed made Derek approach. "_After a performance like that you can't expect me not to reward you._"

It took only a couple of beats for Derek to reach the room's door and yank it open. As soon as he did he received a somewhat startled yelp, and saw how Spencer took two startled steps away from the other man. There was a radiant blush on the brunet's cheeks. And finally, with clarity that _stung_ for one reason or another, Derek understood.

This was no attack.

He couldn't understand why his blood boiled as he turned his gaze, finally able to see the man from the audience clearly. The man seemed significantly older than Spencer, and he was dressed to comfortable yet elegant clothes. The man ran a casual hand through his extremely short hair while his glass covered brown eyes met Derek's. There was a obvious challenge in that look.

A challenge Spencer clearly failed to notice. The youngest man's eyes widened. "What… What are you doing here?"

"I'm _trying_ to make sure you're safe." He couldn't keep his eyes from narrowing a little as he looked at the stranger. "Who would you be?"

Spencer cleared his throat, clearly in a great deal of discomfort, and answered for his 'friend'. "This… This is my professor, he's helped me improve my violin skills. George Foyet."

Derek's eyebrow bounced up, and the burning from before intensified. "George Foyet?" His voice was close to a hiss. It took a while before he managed to finish. "I'm SSA Derek Morgan. My team's been looking for you."

He _had _found George Foyet.

And things just got hell a lot more complicated.

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><p>TBC, right?<p>

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><p>AN: Uh huh… So the puzzles are starting to collide, aren't they? This doesn't look too good…

Was that stuff any good? **PLEASE**, do leave a note to let me hear ya out! It'd seriously make my day. (gives her best pleading eyes)

IN THE NEXT ONE: As things heat up even further between Morgan and Reid the latter doesn't even notice that he's ended up trapped into two crossfires. When everything spins out of control who gets their fingers burned? If ya want it to, the story continues in 'Charm and Harm'.

Perhaps I'll c ya guys next time?

Take care!

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><p><strong>Hatsuharu M<strong>: Let's hope things won't fall apart completely, no? (winces) Spencer really needs to swallow up his hesitations and let Derek close. Those two are just too cute together!

And don't worry. The time for answers comes soon enough… (smirks)

HUGE thank yous for the review!

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><p><strong>nicolethecrazyone<strong>: Awww! So do you, ya know? (beams and hugs)

I really, REALLY hope the next one won't disappoint you, either.

Gigantic thank yous for the review!


	5. Charm and Harm

A/N: I'm baaaack – and with a new chapter, no less! Hooray?

First off, though… Thank you so much for your absolutely amazing reviews! So you've liked the story thus far? Yosh! (beams, and glomps) Your opinion means a lot to me, ya know? So THANK YOU!

Awkay… (braces oneself) It's show time. I really hope you'll enjoy the ride!

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><p><strong>THE FOLLOWING CHAPTER CONTAINS A COUPLE OF LINES FROM THE ACTUAL SERIES. ME NO OWN!<strong>

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><p>Charm and Harm<p>

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><p>Interviewing George Foyet turned out to be a very interesting experience for Derek, and not only because of the obvious tension between them. The first surprise that made something dark flash through him came when he insisted that he'd drive Spencer home before taking Foyet to the man's apartment. As it turned out the two men lived in the same apartment building, only one floor apart from each other.<p>

_How convenient_, Derek mused with a sour aftertaste he hadn't known to expect. He couldn't understand his own reactions anymore. Why should that matter to him?

Stood by the doorway of his apartment Spencer said his byes and gave them a look before disappearing into the security of his home. It took Derek longer than it should've before he managed to rip his gaze off the door and follow Foyet's lead upstairs.

He didn't even realized that he hadn't said a word to Foyet after the introductions until the man spoke. "Do you have something against sexual minorities, agent Morgan?"

Derek nearly choked on his very breath as he darted a stunned look towards the other, caught embarrassingly off guard. "What?" he sputtered before managing to gather the remnants of his dignity and wits. He frowned and dodged a passing by neighdor – a elderly woman who was dressed far too well for such a house and based on the look she gave them knew it. "No. Why would you ask that?"

Foyet shrugged, his expression unchanged. "I've noticed your expressions since you found out about Spencer and I. It's quite clear that you don't like the thought of us being… intimate." A sideways glance that saw so much it made him feel uncomfortable was darted his way. "I can only come up with two possible reasons for that, and you just excluded the first one."

Derek's eyes narrowed while his blood boiled. He was _not_ about to let this man get under his skin. "Not that it'd be any of your business, but I'm not gay."

Foyet's expression told all too clearly just how little the man believed him. "Take all your time to figure it out, Derek. I'm fairly sure Spencer's not on to you yet."

If Foyet hadn't been a highly important witness Derek would've definitely lifted his fist and punched to man directly to the face. His lips opened, prepared for a venomous hiss, until he heard steps that were followed by Emily's voice. "There you are." Turning his head a little he noticed the woman stood behind Foyet's door with David. "I've been trying to call you."

"I had to turn off my phone during the concert", he explained, perhaps too hurriedly. "I… found someone."

Emily frowned but before any questions could be asked her eyes found Foyet. She arched an eyebrow. "Are you George Foyet?"

Foyet nodded slowly with nearly scared eyes, looking around in alarm. "We should go inside."

The small apartment was incredibly tidy and organized. Foyet gave them a nearly apologetic look. "I spend too much time at home. It gives me too many chances to clean up." The man gestured towards the living room. It wasn't until then Derek noticed how badly the professor's hands shook. "Go on, take a seat."

Reaching the couch David spoke, his eyes on the professor. "We don't have to do this if this feels too hard. We understand…"

Foyet shook his head, falling onto a seat close to the room's doorway. "I know, I know. But… It's time, to let it out." The man gave them a wry smile, his whole body shaking by then. "Running away hasn't worked too well so far."

"What do you remember?" Emily inquired, her tone deliberately soft.

A faraway look appeared to Foyet's eyes – it was like the man wasn't with them in the room anymore. "He… had a sightseeing booklet with him. He said he was lost." The professor grit his teeth. "Stephanie… He stabbed her 67 times. I still remember her screams, even though I've lost a lot of bits from that night."

They were all silent, gave the man the chance to compose himself. A line appeared between Derek's eyes as he examined the professor's features. "To me it looks like you remember a lot", he pointed out, uable to stop himself.

Foyet darted a look he couldn't quite read towards him. "It's surprisingly hard to forget the mental image of someone dying. Considering your job I'd expect you to know that."

"Detecting lies is my job", Derek clipped back.

"Morgan." Aaron's tone of voice was nearly threatening. There was no misreading the unit chief's sharp eyes. "Why don't you go back to the station and report chief Reid about this? We'll have a talk later."

Derek opened his mouth for a heated argument but just one look at Foyet's face convinced him otherwise. The only way to win this game was to lose one battle. That's why he got up and headed out of the apartment without a glance over his shoulder. It took all he had not to slam the door as he went.

Why the hell was everything so frustrating today?

Once Derek left Aaron took a deep breath, biting his teeth together. Sometimes he really hated his job.

He glanced towards Foyet's nearly ashen face. "I'm really sorry. This case is taking its toll on us and we're all tired."

Foyet tried to smile but it didn't come out right. "It's alright. I've heard worse."

"You were a lot of help", Emily offered. "Thank you, for doing this."

Foyet looked at them with a solemn expression. "Are you going to get him locked up?"

"The Reaper isn't out of our reach", Aaron replied in a tone that didn't sound familiar in his ears. "He's just a man, nothing more."

It was impossible to tell if the look in Foyet's eyes was closer to a plea or something much darker. "Then catch him."

* * *

><p>When Spencer couldn't focus on any book in his bookshelf long enough to finish 50 pages he decided that he had to force himself to stop thinking. He needed fresh air. Against all reason he chose to use the elevator, just this once. When the doors opened he found himself staring directly into the eyes of Derek.<p>

While Derek cleared his throat with obvious discomfort Spencer's head buzzed in a far from healthy speed. He knew there was no way he could avoid this without being rude. That's why he bit the bullet and stepped into the inhumanly tiny box, feeling like he'd been locked up into a prison cell when the doors closed.

When the journey downwards began Derek finally spoke. "I… never imagined that you'd have a boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend", Spencer answered quickly, despite being an atheist praying that the ride would be over soon. He swallowed convulsively and licked his lips while cold sweat rose to his skin. "We… We made a very clear agreement, in the beginning. We have no strings attached." He knew Foyet had others. It'd never bothered him.

"Oh." Derek sounded genuinely surprised. The man seemed ready to say more but fate had other plans.

Without a warning the elevator screeched to a violent halt, almost sweeping the two of them off their feet. In a poor balance to begin with Spencer stumbled forward, ending up uncomfortably close to Derek. And then nothing moved. Absolutely nothing. It took exactly two seconds before Spencer came to a conclusion that made blood freeze right into his veins.

The elevator was stuck. They were locked up. They were trapped.

Spencer wanted to scream but he couldn't even pull in a proper breath.

_Breathe!_, he tried to tell himself although it seemed his brain had stopped listening a long time ago. _Just remember to breathe._

It took a long, long time before he was coherent enough to be able to make any sense at all to his surroundings. At first he thought the awful wheezing sound came from him but then he realized that he wasn't breathing at all. He wanted to open his eyes to see if Derek was alright but just then the elevator jerked once more, pulling a very humiliating yelp of fright from him.

Spencer's whole body began to shake and his lips were moving before he realized what was happening. "5… 83… 191… 307… 431…"

"Spencer?" Derek sounded genuinely confused. "What the hell are you doing?"

Spencer counted five more numbers before he managed to speak. "It's… I count prime numbers, whenever I'm nervous. It… It helps me calm down…"

Derek emitted a snort that sounded suspiciously shaky. "You sure look calm."

Spencer was all too aware of the fact that he looked like a pouting child when he gave the older man his best hard look. "Shut… Shut the hell up, Morgan!"

They stared at each other for a long, extremely bizarre moment, both breathing loudly and erratically. And then, before he properly realized what was going on, Derek's hands were on him, moving somewhat hesitantly on his clothes.

The dark-skinned man emitted a choked breath. "I… I'm not gay", the agent proclaimed in a stiff tone.

Spencer met the other's eyes, facing so many buried secrets that there was no way he would've been able to read them all. "Neither am I", he claimed back. The other man's touches were making it increasingly hard for him to breathe normally and his cheeks were on fire. He choked a little on the following words. "Many scientists believe that a person's sexual orientation isn't really set in stone."

"Are you saying that anyone can turn me on?" Derek demanded in a voice he didn't quite recognize. The dark skinned man's hands fumbled on his body. It was almost adorable how such a usually confident alpha male didn't seem to know what to do with him.

Spencer gasped when the other found the exact right spot and squeezed so hard that his nails nearly dug into the agent's skin, then shook his head. "No, no." Good grief, was he moaning? The heat on his cheeks spread everywhere inside him. "It… It has a lot to with hormones and chemistry…"

And then Derek's lips crashed against his, sealing him into a fiery, almost aggressive kiss. At first he was too stunned to react but then his lips finally regained their ability to move and his body dipped just a little bit closer to the agent's.

Derek's very pleasant taste of coffee exploded in his mouth and in a flash it was all he could think about.

Then the elevator began to move once more. Spencer couldn't tell if it was the sudden movement or something else entirely that broke their kiss and pushed Derek further from him. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't read the look in the man's eyes.

Derek's lips opened but in the end nothing came out. And then the ride was already over.

The journey was finished before they realized it and the doors slid open to reveal the face of Aaron Hotchner, whom Spencer had met once since the appearance of the Reaper. The man looked at them with a frown. "Are you two alright?"

Spencer nodded although he wasn't too sure about the matter. "I… I'll get back to you on that."

Derek was quick to nod and leap out of the tiny box, out of Spencer's close proximity. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Aaron gave them a look but thankfully didn't push any further. The man's eyes hardened slightly. "Morgan, we'll have to get back to the station. We've been trying to call you – the Reaper struck again, just before the concert."

Spencer felt inhumanly cold while Derek swore loudly.

There was some hesitation in Derek's motions while the man turned to look at him. Yet again those eyes were unreadable, like a barrier of some sort had been built between them. It hurt, a lot more than it should've. "I'll check up on later, to make sure you're alright. Call me if there's anything wrong at all." With that the man began to leave with uncharacteristic stiff steps. "And go back inside. You shouldn't walk around unguarded before we catch the Reaper."

Spencer nodded, his tongue completely tied, and thrust his hands into his pockets. As he watched the two agents jump into their cars he felt strangely empty and so agitated that he was about to explode at the same time.

What the hell was happening to him?

The breath of air that came from the cars disappearing gave him no answers.

Spencer knew that he was taking a risk but his feet were far too restless to lead him back inside. Instead he watched the agents disappear, then headed towards a undetermined location.

If he wouldn't get rid of the pulsating and heat inside his body _they_ might just end up killing him much before any psychopath.

Derek's taste kept tingling in his mouth as he went.

* * *

><p>Shadows were already growing long and dark while William stood in his office, holding a small glass of strong alcohol in a surprisingly steady hand. The crushing headache he'd been having earlier was slowly turning into a dull, nagging ache.<p>

Two more victims, young adults. Two people in the very beginning of their lives.

They were dead because he hadn't accepted that lunatic's sick deal.

He squeezed the glass so hard it almost broke, uncomfortable stinging sensation taking over his exhausted eyes.

Maybe he should've accepted Aaron's offer to go home and get some rest, but he couldn't. He couldn't even close his eyes without having flashes of the victims' faces filling his head – how was he supposed to sleep?

Just then his eyes spotted the cell phone he'd practically thrown to his desk earlier that day, sick of hearing all those desperate voices pleading him to catch the Reaper. And at that moment he couldn't hold himself back any longer.

He picked up the phone and dialed numbers he hadn't used in a much too long time. His hands began to shake while he waited.

Only run into a voicemail.

"_This is Dr. Spencer Reid. I can't answer the phone right now but leave a brief message after the tone and I'll get back to you as soon as I can._"

William Reid almost hung up – just like he'd done countless of times before. But this time he was a stronger man. This time he found his voice.

He swallowed thickly, then began in a weak voice that might've humiliated him under different circumstances. "Spencer, it's… It's me." He fumbled for words for a while. "I understand that you probably don't want to hear another word from me and I can't blame you, but… Earlier today I saw the Reaper's latest victim – he was a man of your age. And… I know it's horrible, but I can't help being grateful that it wasn't you. That I didn't lose you like I lost your mother." He knew his time was limited. He'd have to hang up soon although there was still a million things he wanted to say. He took a deep breath, once more biting back the stinging of his eyes. "You're the only thing that matters to me in this world, Spencer. Don't ever forget that." With that the time was up. William took a moment before putting the phone away as softly as he could.

Some days he really hated being a parent.

He took a deep, unsteady breath, furiously attempting to regain control over himself. In the end he managed to get lost into his professional's role. His mind was completely clear.

Relieved by the change he took another, much easier breath and focused on the crime scene photographs spread all over the table before him. Although it sickened him he examined the wounds, the signatures, the blood. Until he suddenly spotted something he hadn't noticed before. He frowned and narrowed his eyes, then took the picture to his hand to be sure.

The glass fell from his other hand as realization shot through his body like a bolt of lightning.

* * *

><p>Derek's feet felt heavy and numb while he approached the newest crime scene, counting in his head to focus on <em>anything <em>but what was waiting for him. It wasn't exactly easy with the blue and red lights all around him.

It only got harder when he found the grim face of Aaron. "The Reaper didn't give him a chance this time. He was stabbed seventy times."

Derek swallowed, dangerously close to throwing up. He focused on Aaron's face because he didn't think he would've been able to handle seeing the body. "Please tell me we're at least a step closer to catching that son of a bitch." It was impossible to tell if his voice was closer to a sob or a hiss. Perhaps it was a mixture of both.

Aaron said nothing but the man's darkening eyes did.

Finally managing to brace himself Derek cast his eyes downwards, towards the body that'd been abandoned into a pool of blood.

There was no life in Spencer Reid's eyes.

And Derek bolted to a sitting position, his lips open for a soundless, breathless scream. It took several seconds before he realized that he wasn't examining a crime scene – instead he was on a couch in the police station's break room, resting for the first time in days.

He wasn't alone, either.

Jennifer, who had a empty coffee mug in her hold, was looking at him with a great deal of worry. "That must've been one heck of a dream – you were whimpering." Her eyebrows knitted together. "Are you okay?"

He nodded slowly and looked away. For the first time he wished she hadn't been enough of a profiler to see the real answers from his face. "I just… The sleep deprivation is getting to me, I guess."

Jennifer didn't appear convinced. She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Look… I heard you almost chewed George Foyet's head off today. You haven't been yourself lately." It was impossible to look away when her blue eyes were fixed on him, almost pleading. "This team's a family. Whatever there's on your mind you can talk to me, okay? I'm here to listen to you."

He tried to soften his expression while nodding. "Yeah, I know. Thanks." But just then it felt like the room's four walls were closing in on him. He _needed_ to get out before he'd suffocate. That's why he headed towards the room's door. "I'll be back in a bit."

Jennifer appeared worried while he turned to leave. "Where are you going?"

He inhaled and exhaled, then inhaled again. His chest didn't feel any less tight. "Tell Hotch… Tell him that I needed some fresh air and I'll be back soon, okay?" He didn't manage to give her any further explanations. He didn't have such even for himself.

For the first time in his life Derek had absolutely no idea of what he wanted as he marched out of the station. He'd never been as scared in his entire life.

* * *

><p>It was night when Spencer woke up to the sound of knocking. His eyes flew open and he blinked several times, furiously attempting to make some sense to his tangled thoughts. He glanced towards his alarm clock to discover that it said three thirty. A frown appeared to his features.<p>

Foyet never knocked. Who else could it be at this hour?

For once in his life letting his curiosity take the lead he made his way to the door, fighting off a yawn on his way. All traces of sleep vanished when he opened the door to discover the person stood behind it.

There was a torn look on Derek Morgan's face.

Spencer knew that he should've questioned the agent's motives, that he should've at very least asked if the other was really sure about this – to ask what 'this' was. But this time he was selfish and kept his mouth firmly shut.

Instead he took a step to the side, letting Derek enter.

* * *

><p>TBC, right?<p>

* * *

><p>AN: Things sure are headed to a interesting direction, aren't they? (quirks an eyebrow) What's gonna happen between those two, and how will it affect… well, everything? Things are bound to get messier from here.

**PLEASE, **leave a note to let me know your thoughts! Awww, c'mon, the button's right there below. I can tell it's calling you.

IN THE NEXT ONE: Morgan and Reid end up doing something that turns things between them upside down. Meanwhile the Reaper gets sick of warming up and starts his sickest game so far. The clock is ticking, but on who? The story continues is 'Profiler, Profiled'.

Until next time, folks, I hope!

Take care!

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><p><strong>Katsakura<strong>: Indeed, huh? (winces) There's several options as to where this all will be headed, and none of them sounds overly pleasant.

Super sized thank yous for the review! I really hope you'll be staying tuned.

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><p><strong>Hatsuharu M<strong>: A shocker indeed. We'll see just how twisted this plot is going to get as the story progresses…

20+, huh? (chuckles, and beams) It's so good to hear you'd be willing to read that much! We'll see. I'm currently in the process of sealing some incoming plotlines in my head – after that it's easier to determine the length. (smirks mysteriously)

Massive thank yous for the review! Until next time, I hope.

* * *

><p><strong>Reidland<strong>: That's so, so good to hear. (beams) I really hope ya'll stay as hooked with the next bit.

Monumental thank yous for the review!

* * *

><p><strong>abitobsessed<strong>: GOSH! You've really enjoyed the story thus far THAT much? So sure know how to make me float with joy. (beams) We'll see just how long this will be. In any case it means a lot to hear that you'd be willing to read that much further.

Spencer would definitely have no problem finding a job if he'd make a sudden, spontaneous decision to move to Quantico. (smirks)

Ah, as for the roses…! (grins mysteriously) No worries. All answers will come eventually.

Enormous thank yous for the fantastic review! I really hope you'll be just as pleased with the next one.

* * *

><p><strong>nicolethecrazyone<strong>: And now you made mine! (beams and hugs)

Lots and lots of thank yous for the review!


	6. Profiler, Profiled

A/N: Hiya there, ya all! (grins) It's time for another chapter, wouldn't you say?

BUT, before getting there… THANK YOU so much for all those fantastic reviews! (glomps) Ya guys are really precious, you know? Thank you!

Awkay, before you get bored with me babbling, let's rock. (swallows thickly) I truly hope this part of the ride won't fall flat.

**THIS CHAPTER INCLUDES SOME QUITE HARD SLASH! FOR THOSE WHO AREN'T COMFORTABLE WITH IT, I'VE INSERTED WHAT I HOPE TO BE PROPER WARNINGS.**

* * *

><p>Profiler, Profiled<p>

* * *

><p><strong>!HARDCORE SLASH!<strong>

* * *

><p>Derek was a determined man, Spencer observed. When the agent wanted something he wasted no time in getting it. Spencer had never been stripped from his clothes as fast as he was in the safety of that bizarre night's decadent shadows.<p>

Derek's hands were breathtakingly hard and hesitant at the same time when the man pushed him to a wall, attacking his lips with such ferocity that it almost scared him. "I'm not gay", the agent hissed against his lips, the hot breath tingling on his skin. Their eyes met and suddenly there was no mistaking the tension. "I don't know what the hell you're doing to me."

Still pinned against the wall Spencer reached forward the best as he could, giving Derek a teasing little kiss. He licked his lips, feeling uncomfortably hot. "I… I don't have a clue, either", he confessed quietly, truly fearing for his sanity. He was _shaking_. "Let me move and we'll see. Let it go."

Derek did. Almost embarrassingly easily the man guided him towards the direction of his bedroom, not wasting a second before pushing him to the bed. It wasn't until they were there – naked and their hot, tensed up bodies only inches apart – the hesitation began. Derek grunted with frustration, his eyes narrowing.

Spencer felt tempted to chuckle but didn't quite dare to in fear of humiliating the other man. "You've really never done this with a man, have you?" he inquired in a bizarre, husky tone. There was trembling he couldn't quite understand under his kin.

Derek unleashed a gruff sound that spoke far louder than words.

Spencer risked a gentle, tender smile and allowed his hands to wander. The heat on his cheeks and all over his body made him fear he might explode. "Don't worry – I'll show you." Taking the leading role was a foreign land for him. With Foyet he was always the submissive one.

And oh, Derek didn't enjoy being dominated. The agent's eyes actually narrowed and for a moment he was sure venomous hisses would be sent his way. But as he left a trail of kisses from the man's neck to a spot dangerously close to the most private parts something changed. At first Derek relaxed, slowly yet surely. Then the man's body began responding to his invites.

Derek growled and took a rather rough hold of him, pulling him close so hard that nails almost dug through the tender skin of his back. It wasn't all that hard to feel how the almost trembling man began to grow harder against him. Spencer gasped, taken aback by the change of pace and energy between them, but wasn't stunned for long. He gave a growl of his own, revealing his teeth like he'd been a attacking wild animal and bit Derek's neck lightly, teasingly.

Derek emitted something that sounded almost like a bark and fixed a hard questioning look at him. The agent's eyes were between curious and furious, and it was easy to tell that the wordless turmoil wasn't just between them – it was inside Derek as well.

Spencer took a firm hold of Derek, feeling how something changed on his face. It seemed the agent wasn't the only one hardening constantly. "You don't take orders well, do you?" he breathed out in a husky tone.

Alpha male's eyes stared back at him, demanding and greedy. "Stop playing with me", Derek half snarled, the nails leaving marks on his skin. The man felt and looked just about ready to explode or combust.

Good heavens, Spencer didn't feel like himself at all – he'd never experienced anything even close to the surges going through his entire body at that moment. He licked his lips, realizing that he was shaking uncontrollably, and leaned close to Derek's ear. "Then take me", he challenged. Because truthfully Derek wasn't the only one in excruciating pain, about to rupture. Foyet always put him out of his misery fast. This was a strange experience for him.

Perhaps he shouldn't have said what he had, given the permission. Because Derek didn't waste time. Spencer gave something that sounded almost like a scream when his body was shifted swiftly so that he lay on his stomach. It didn't take long before he felt Derek on him – the man's hands and lips going through absolutely every inch of him, making black spots dance in his vision. In the end the man grew impatient and started using teeth. Spencer hissed, with pleasure as much as mild ache, when the agent left a definite mark to his back.

And then, completely without a warning, Derek made the first fumbling attempt of entering his body.

Spencer wasn't sure if he wanted to yelp, gasp or smile. In the end he produced a strange, wheeze like sound. His neck arched as he fought to catch his breath. "You… You can't take me like that", he managed to pant with severe difficulty. His fingers spasmed on the bedsheets, tangling. "Pre… Prepare me first. Knock before you enter."

He could feel Derek's arched eyebrow. The man pressed harder against his body, leaning dangerously close to his neck. "Are you mocking me?"

In some other situation Spencer might've grinned. As it was all his focus went to breathing properly, to keeping his head at least remotely clear. "What… What are you going to do about it?" he pressed.

Derek bit again, this time striking on the tender skin of his neck. He emitted a all too excited yelp when the sting picked up, then vanished as Derek kissed the abused skin. And then he felt something entirely different.

A finger was inserted into him, first tentatively, then with some more confidence when the other man felt his body react eagerly. The second finger followed soon after, making him whimper out loud. Spencer's breath was stolen once more when the third came, making his eyes roll to the back of his head.

"If… If I'm not doing this right, tell me", Derek told him somewhat gruffly. The man's voice was husky, _aroused_. It was easy to tell the urges inside were barely in control.

Spencer nodded, unable to do anything else. If he'd opened his mouth he would've _screamed_ – whatever it was Derek was doing it did feel _right_. So good that he truly feared he wouldn't fit into his own skin anymore if the man wouldn't release him.

And then Derek was inside him, before he realized what was happening. At first Derek clearly didn't have the slightest clue of what he was doing, but the jerks and quivers of Spencer's body led him to the right track. There was unexpected certainty in the movements of the agent's hips as the man moved, tried this new territory with the same terrified curiosity some face in a benjee jump.

Was Derek… scared of this? Because that's what it felt like. The man was terrified – but also obviously very pleased and excited to explore further now that he was getting the taste. The sounds Derek emitted, albeit small, made Spencer harden even further, to a point where he actually cried out when it _hurt_ and pulsated.

But Derek wasn't planning on making this easy on him, it seemed. The man shifted several times, exploring the new land, kissed and sucked his skin with strange noises that sounded a lot like purring.

Just when Spencer was sure he'd pass out right there and then Derek shifted once more. The explosion that ravished them both coaxed such noises from them that in a more coherent state of mind Spencer might've been worried about what the neighbors would say. Spencer's back arched and he _howled_, feeling like he'd been ripped right out of his skin by such pleasure he'd never, ever experienced before. Derek came a lot more quietly but by no means soundlessly. The man growled like a tiger, the agent's fingernails leaving long red lines on Spencer's milky skin.

Once it was over Spencer gasped, his unnaturally bright eyes wide and his whole body shivering as though he'd had high fever. The heat on his skin made him feel like he'd been burned up alive. Feeling almost delirious he met Derek's eyes to find them filled with a storm of emotions from ecstasy and repulsion to sheer terror. And although his heart had almost stopped just moments ago it wasn't until then it actually skipped a beat. He swallowed thickly, tasting something foreign.

It was quite clear that neither of them had any idea what they were doing. And it scared them out of their minds.

No matter how hard he tried to avoid it Spencer practically passed out soon after, his whole body shutting down. He woke up alone. And for some reason the empty side of his bed brought a stinging sensation to his eyes.

* * *

><p><strong>!HARDCORE SLASH ENDS!<strong>

* * *

><p>In the police station the rest of the team was gathered around a desk, staring at the pictures scattered on it.<p>

"So you think it's a clue?" Aaron inquired, his expression even harder than usual.

William nodded sharply. "I took me a while, but then I remembered the Reaper's previous message. Do you see those?" The man pointed towards the tiny, bloodied markings engraved to the two victims' skins. "They're Roman numerals. I combined them with letters the same way Spencer did and it turned out to be another message."

"What does it say?" David asked, his voice tight with anxiety and excitement.

William swallowed. Nausea was apparent on the man's suddenly deathly pale face and his eyes carried sheer terror. "It's an address, that of Spencer and Foyet's apartment building."

Emily's eyes widened for a moment. "The Reaper's going after one of them."

Aaron's eyes darkened still as he took his cell phone and dialed numbers for the tenth time during the past hour. They were all startled to hear a dial tone right behind them. Turning around they discovered that Derek had just entered the police station. The man looked like he hadn't slept in decades but there was also something strange in his eyes they couldn't name.

"Where have you been?" Aaron demanded. It didn't require profiling skills to detect that he wasn't pleased with his subordinate. "I've been trying to call you."

Derek blinked once, clearly confused. "I just needed some fresh air." Seeing the looks on their faces the man frowned. "What did I miss?"

* * *

><p>Derek felt like he'd been set on fire when he heard that Spencer had been called to the police station. He knew it was irrational and stupid but it seemed he'd somehow expected that after their encounter both Spencer and the sizzling inside him would magically disappear – that he could forget and move on with his life happily, without a care in the world.<p>

So why wasn't the burning over yet?

"Just for the record, you're going to burn a hole to that wall soon." Emily's voice managed to startle him. She was looking at him with clearly apparent curiosity. "I know that look. You've done something stupid."

Derek darted a sharp look towards her, the chaos in his head sharpening and turning towards her. "Weren't we supposed to have a deal against profiling each other?" he snarled.

Emily gave him a wry look. "It's not profiling – it's having a normal eyesight." She frowned. "What the hell is going on with you?"

Derek never gave a verbal response, but he had a dark feeling that his body did far too much talking for him. Because at that very moment Spencer walked into the station right by Foyet's side. The turmoil that rose inside Derek made him feel like he'd been about to burst.

What the hell was the matter with him? He'd always been a passionate person but he'd never faced anything like this before.

He might've lost control over himself completely if Aaron and William hadn't showed up right then. Aaron was the first one to speak out. "Thank you for coming here this fast."

It didn't take a lot to notice that Spencer was avoiding meeting Derek's eyes and focused on Aaron instead. "We understood there was something we need to know."

"There is." William stepped forward, placing a set of crime scene photographs to the desk before them. "I… noticed something, last night, when I was going through the evidence." The man pointed at the pictures, signaling towards the markings on the two dead bodies. "Do you see those? The Reaper left us signs."

Spencer frowned and focused on the pictures. And in a flash it all clicked.

Spencer emitted a tiny gasp and shuddered like he'd been shot. The man's face fell so pale that for a moment Derek was sure the brunet would pass out. "How did he find us?"

"We don't know." William swallowed, his eyes giving Foyet a passing glance before focusing on his son. "He's about to go after one of you, soon."

"We want to transfer you both to a safehouse", Aaron joined in, his expression even more grim than usual.

To everyone's surprise Foyet shook his head. "There's no need for that." Derek couldn't understand why his blood fumed when the man seemed to inch closer to Spencer. "I have another apartment, for a situation like this one. We can go hiding there."

Aaron frowned, folding his arms. "Are you sure that address is safe?"

Foyet nodded. "I'm sure. I rented it with an alias no one knows. There's no chance anyone else could have a clue."

Derek's blood boiled. He didn't like this plan, at all. Spencer, and Foyet as well, needed to go hiding, before the Reaper would manage to dig them out. This was putting both their lives in the line, and even the thought sickened him.

William's eyebrows furrowed. It was quite clear the man didn't like this plan, either. "Fine. But I'll have a police officer in civil clothes keeping an eye on the house at all times. There's no way I'm letting you two go anywhere all alone. Only the said officer, agent Hotchner and I will know the address of that place."

Foyet nodded again, his facial muscles tightening. "Alright."

Behind the desk, safe from everyone's sight, Spencer's hand reached out towards Derek's; pleading for support, pleading for a promise that everything was going to be alright.

For the tiniest of moments Derek's hand jerked, his whole body begging him to work on his instincts for just this once. But then the sound of reason took over. His fingers jerked once more as he pulled his hand further from Spencer, as far as it was possible without arousing suspicion from the other people in the room.

It was that simple gesture – the denied comfort – that changed the entire air between and around them. Because although he wasn't a profiler Spencer was, apparently, a genius and very good at reading between the lines.

Spencer's entire posture tensed up completely. Before Derek could pull in a proper breath the man's hand was pulled away, out of his reach. As subtly as possible the younger man took a step further, bringing up a wall between them.

Whatever connection Derek had felt between them before was gone.

Derek's eyes narrowed as frustration, fear, anger and guilt tore his whole being to pieces. His fingers _burned_ with the need to reach out while he curled them, balling both fists as hard as he possibly could.

Derek's lips opened but he never got the chance to emit whatever was on his mind. For Aaron stepped forth with an expression Derek knew all too well. "Let's discuss the details in chief Reid's office." The unit chief looked towards him. "Morgan and Prentiss, go to Foyet and Spencer's apartment building and keep an eye on it. If the Reaper appears contact chief Reid's men immediately – they'll be standing by. Don't try to catch him alone."

Derek nodded, his throat suddenly too dry for any words.

Just before walking away Spencer gave him a one last passing glance. There was no mistaking the hurt and confusion in those eyes – Derek had just slashed deeper than he'd ever realized. He opened his mouth but Spencer turned his back, following the three other men as they walked away. The brunet didn't spare him a single look over his shoulder before disappearing into his father's office. And somehow the door that closed between them seemed thicker than a wall of bricks.

* * *

><p><strong>!MILD HARDCORE SLASH!<strong>

* * *

><p>Spencer knew that according to all sense the stress and pressure he'd been pushed through recently should've had him exhausted. But late that evening he couldn't even close his eyes.<p>

Whenever he closed his eyelids he saw Derek, _felt_ the man.

He grit his teeth as tightly as he could and balled his fists, unsoothed hunger burning inside his whole body.

He knew he shouldn't have let someone under his skin like that. He didn't think he'd ever forgive fimself for that mistake. What the hell was he expecting when he gave himself the permission to fool around with a clearly straigth man?

"Did you know that you look absolutely adorable when you're thoughtful?" Foyet's voice startled him even though it came from as far as the doorway.

He glanced towards the other man, not quite understanding why he felt guilty and torn. The rules of his affair with Foyet had been clear from the start. He licked his lips, trying to sort out his tangled thoughts. "I just… I guess I'm a bit overwhelmed right now."

"I can understand that." There was a calm yet somewhat dangerous look on Foyet's face. It was like he'd been looking into the heart of a ticking time bomb. For a microsecond the older man's jaw tightened. "I just watched you getting changed. I noticed the marks on your skin."

Heat – that of humiliation and twisted delight – rose to Spencer's face. He couldn't look at Foyet in the eyes anymore, nor could he speak. What the hell was he expected to say, anyway? It wasn't like he'd broken rules.

Foyet's hand was rough as it took a hold of his jaw and the lips going through all of him were even harder. Fire burned on his skin and he whimpered, closing his eyes while his hand fumbled. In his current state of mind he didn't have the slightest clue if he wanted to push Foyet away or pull the man closer. He didn't have a clue about anything anymore.

"I smell him on you", Foyet half hissed, giving his ear a bite that wasn't strictly playful. "That's going to have to change."

The events that followed were a bizarre blur for Spencer. Foyet _took_ him, with all his might, and he allowed the greedy man to take what he wanted. His skin was itching and burning so badly that he moaned several times, fearing for his sanity when it all got way too much for his head to handle. A couple of times he could've sworn he _felt_ Derek and emitted pitiable whimpers when it seemed his body was torn to pieces. And not just his body, actually. It was tearing up his soul as well.

The scream he emitted in the end was that of a wild beast that was banging the bars of its cage to get out.

An hour later, in the aftermath of everything, Spencer had his eyes closed as he stood in a shower, letting almost burning hot water wash over him. His whole body was aching but he didn't mind. At least it was a good distraction.

He was so deep in that he didn't hear the steps or even sense a presence until there was a touch on his skin.

His eyes flew open and widened while breath caught into his throat. "George?" This wouldn't be their first shower together but something felt baddly off. "What's… going on?"

"Shh."

He felt something strange, a stinging sensation in the back of his neck that was soon followed by hellish searing. And then he knew nothing more.

* * *

><p><strong>!MILD HARDCORE SLASH ENDS!<strong>

* * *

><p>Outside the dark yet all too familiar apartment building uncomfortable silence was hanging thickly in the vehicle Derek and Emily occupied. In the end Derek realized that he shouldn't have trusted Emily to keep quiet. "So you slept with him?" she rather stated than asked, as casually as someone might discuss the weather.<p>

Derek nearly choked on his breath. His eyes widened as he stared at her. "What?" he sputtered before gathering himself frantically. He shook his head vehemently, his heart beating in its very limits. "No, no way! I'm…"

Just one look from Emily was enough to strike him speechless. "Do _not_ lie to me, Morgan, unless you want me to punch you." She then frowned, examining his face. "Are you okay?"

Derek looked away, his expression darkening. His eyes strayed towards the direction of Spencer's windows. "No", he answered in the end, finally deciding to be honest.

Emily sighed. There was a moment of silence before she spoke, her tone much gentler than before. "I know that it's not a easy concept for you, considering your past. Which is why you need to be careful here. Otherwise you may end up hurting two people."

Derek emitted a bitter snort. _A bit too late for that._ "What if the damage is already done?"

He never got the answer because just then they both noticed something. A shadow was clearly moving in Spencer's apartment. Someone was there. And then it was gone.

"Shit…", Emily hissed.

"You take Foyet's apartment, he may go there next", Derek ordered. For the first time since the night before he was feeling like himself, like he was in at least some control. He grit his teeth. "I'll check out Spencer's, just in case."

Emily frowned. "Hotch clearly said…"

Derek cast a far out of line look towards her. "I know what I'm doing, Prentiss. You sit around here and wait for him to flee again if you want to but I'm going in _now_, before it's too late. We've gotta catch that son of a bitch."

Emily's eyes widened slightly. "Morgan…!"

Derek didn't hear her protest because he already emerged from the vehicle and slammed the door, then rushed towards his destination.

This would end today, once and for all. Then all could go back to how it was supposed to be.

When approaching Spencer's apartment Derek noticed immediately that the door was slightly ajar, as though inviting him. He frowned and placed a surprisingly steady hand to his gun, then took a step into the dark.

There was nothing. He couldn't see or hear anything that would've felt out of place. He was, however, almost sure that he smelled roses. The scent made his eyebrows knit together.

He should've never allowed himself such a slip of attention – it cost him immediately. He heard a strange, brief sound, like a whisper. And then it was too late.

Something hit the back of his head, _hard_. He knew nothing more.

* * *

><p>TBC, no?<p>

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><p>AN: (shudders) Oh boy… Talking about things going downhill, no?

But hey, a huge YAY for bedroom profiling! (smirks)

**PLEASE**, do leave a note! Let this story feel yar love. Pwease…? (gives HUGS puppy dog eyes)

IN THE NEXT ONE: Things spin upside down as pieces begin to slide together. Reid and Morgan aren't safe from cuts and scrapes when the Reaper makes his next move. The story continues in 'The Instincts'.

Until next time, folks! I really hope I'll c ya then.

Peace out!

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><p><strong>Mariel<strong>: (chuckles, and blushes a bit) Gosh, you've really enjoyed it THAT much thus far! Woah!

I really hope you won't like the next one any less.

Monumental thank yous for the review!

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><p><strong>Hatsuharu M<strong>: Let's hope so! Those two are HOT together. (smirks) Yup, that was THE elevetor scene, Sandylee style! (I still have a mental snapshot of the way Spencer walked out of the elevator in the actual show. What the hell had Derek done to him?)

Hopefully this won't end up as a death fic. I've produced more than my load of those already! (winces)

Massive thank yous for the review!

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><p><strong>Reidland<strong>: He does seem to be, a little bit, doesn't he? (glances with suspicion) We'll see just what those two come up with.

Colossal thank yous for the review! 'Hope I'll c ya soon.

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><p><strong>nicolethecrazyone<strong>: I'm really, REALLY happy to hear that you've been so pleased with what's been published thus far. (beams)

Heh, since you seem to eager to read more, here's another chapter. (winks)

Gigantic thank yous for the review!


	7. The Instincts

A/N: First of all, I'm so, so, SO sorry that it took me this long to update! (winces) My head just… exploded, I guess. Now I'm back on track, and if you want to read more I've got a pretty solid picture of where this lil' thing is headed.

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for those amazing reviews! This story would've never made it out of the dark without them. (HUGS) So THANK YOU!

Awkay… (takes a deep breath) I guess it's time to go. I REALLY hope you'll find this chapter worth the wait!

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><p>The Instincts<p>

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><p>One of the few things Aaron was truly afraid of was receiving an announcement that one of his agents had been hurt in the line of duty. It didn't matter how seemingly insignificant the damage was – his heart always stopped for several seconds and he was sure each gloomy message took away five years of his life.<p>

Derek Morgan had definitely shortened his lifespan more than anyone else. And that night he lost another five years as he marched up the stairs to Spencer's apartment, his stoic mask never once slipping.

He didn't allow himself a sigh of breather when he found Derek leaning against the wall outside the apartment, holding a ice pack to his head with a sulking expression. It was remarkable, really, how a well trained agent who'd seen it all could look like a hurt five-year-old.

"Are you alright?" he inquired, his voice carefully in check.

Derek glanced briefly towards him before nodding and looking away. Good. At least the agent knew he wouldn't get out of this one without a lecture. "Yeah, although they want to make sure I didn't get a concussion." The man gritted his teeth together, hard. "He… took my credentials, Hotch. I lost them to that son of a bitch."

Aaron took a deep breath, fighting with his all to keep himself from losing it completely. "We'll have to worry about that later. We also need to talk about how you disobeyed a direct order from me." Their eyes met and just one look revealed that they both knew how serious the situation was. He inhaled and exhaled a couple of times, waiting until a couple of chief Reid's officers passed by. "I won't be able to let that slide, I'm sure you understand that. But right now we have a lot more important issues to deal with."

Derek nodded stiffly, tensing up visibly. The man then glanced towards the apartment behind him with darkened eyes. "This means something. He got me – he could've killed me if he wanted to. There's a reason why I'm still here."

Aaron nodded slowly, sorting out his thoughts. "Do you have an idea what that reason could be?"

Derek frowned. "Would you think I'm crazy if I'd say that the bastard wanted me awake? That he wanted me to know I'm going to die?"

Even the thought made Aaron feel cold to the core of his being. Before he could react Emily appeared to the scene. The look on her face promised nothing good long before she spoke. "I just got a call from chief Reid. The officer who was supposed to keep an eye on Spencer and Foyet's hideout isn't answering any calls. They're going over there to investigate."

From the corner of his eye Aaron saw how Derek stiffened completely, even appeared close to throwing up. Upon noticing that he was being observed the younger man quickly worked his hardest to fix the signals his body transmitted. There was, however, nothing Derek could do about the haunted, horrified look in his eyes.

Aaron had been a profiler for a very long time. He wouldn't have needed even one tenth of that experience to come to a conclusion that things were even messier than he'd thought.

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><p>William Reid had been terrified several times in his life. But his heart had never pounded the way it did that night, as he approached Spencer and Foyet's hideout with two of his men. The frown that'd been sitting on his face all day deepened when he saw a entirely too familiar figure slumped to a bench across the house.<p>

"Sanches?" he called out, crossing the street. "What are you doing out of your car?"

Wind played with the man's black hair but otherwise the young officer was completely still. And William knew, long before he took an actual look. Knowing didn't make actually facing the sight any easier, though.

There was blood all over Santano Sanches' chest and his dark eyes were glazed over. Despite the brutal circumstances it took a couple of moments before William's brain took in the situation.

His eyes widened and arctic coldness filled his entire body. "The Reaper's been here", he announced to the men behind him, ripping his gaze off of Sanches' body. There would be time for grieving, but later. Right now he had to make sure he hadn't lost his son as well.

Tossing all caution to the wind he _ran_ as fast as his feet could carry him, praying that he wasn't too late.

The house was entirely too dark and quiet to his liking as he burst in and sped through the hallways, his gun drawn. "Spencer?" There was no reply. William's heart tightened and nearly stilled in his chest. "Spencer? Foyet? Can you hear me?"

That was when he found the bedroom. If his heart hadn't stopped before it most definitely did at that moment. He couldn't even breathe.

Spencer lay on the bed with his eyes closed, covered waist down by a blanket. His son appeared chillingly pale, even for him, but the worst part was the blood.

The blood was everywhere – sprayed on Spencer's gray shirt, skin, bedsheets, the walls…

Once again remembering its duty William's heart began to race as he stared at the nightmarish sight before him. For a second, two, three, shock paralyzed him. But then his parental instincts kicked in with a breathtaking force.

There was a lot of commotion in the room but he was blind and deaf to it all as he dashed to his son, laying a trembling hand to the young man's shoulder. "Spencer." His voice was tight, desperate. It wasn't until then he realized just how close to tears he was. Spencer didn't react. His hold on the shoulder tightened and he shook first lightly, then frantically. "Spencer! Open your eyes!" Was his son even breathing? The skin under his fingertips was so cold…

Just then, a mere flash before he would've most likely lost his mind completely, Spencer unleashed a tiny, barely audible groan, wrinkling his nose. At first his son's eyes fluttered slightly, then opened halfway and finally flew wide upon seeing him. "Dad…?" Spencer's voice was raspy, sleepy and confused but William didn't give a damn. It was _there_. His son was still there.

William's mouth opened but in the end he couldn't produce a sound. Instead he pulled Spencer up with such speed that he probably made the younger man feel dizzy and crushed his son to his chest as tightly as he could. Spencer didn't respond to his hold but didn't push him away either. It was the best reaction William had the permission to ask for.

"Sir." It took a long moment before William registered the male voice behind him. Turning his head he found a latino paramedic of his age. There was a apologetic look on the man's face. "Sir, I'm sorry, but you'll have to move so we can take a look at your son."

William nodded slowly and moved away although it was the last thing he would've wanted to do. Observing the events that followed felt like he'd been watching a bizarre movie.

Spencer was examined and deemed alright apart from some small cuts and bruises. There were no larger wounds on his torso – the blood on him obviously came from someone else.

Those weren't entirely good news, clearly to Spencer either. The young genius seemed ready to throw up and appeared even paler than before as the information sunk in. "George…Where is he?" Spencer's eyes were frantic as they locked directly to William's. For the first time since his early childhood his son was asking him for help. "There was… Someone came in, and attacked me. Is George alright?"

At first William didn't have the slightest idea how to answer – he didn't know, and to be fully honest all he cared about at the moment was Spencer. But in the end he became a stone hard professional once more. "I don't know", he admitted, knowing his son wanted and needed honesty. He hoped his voice remained calm. "But don't worry, we'll find him. Everything's going to be alright."

Spencer's mouth opened but before the man managed to voice whatever had been on his mind the paramedics had taken him away. William felt incredibly cold and hollow as he stared at the space where his son had just been. His heart was still hammering furiously.

It'd been close. Too fucking close.

"Chief." Pleased to have something else to focus on he looked towards the female voice that'd spoken with a thick Russian accent. Officer Katarina Verkova had a nauseated look on her face and repulsion in her blue eyes as she stared at the sight unfolding. She ran a surprisingly steady hand through her long, blonde ponytail. "This blood… If Spencer wasn't harmed it's all Foyet's." She looked at him, then away again. "If it's all his… I doubt he's still alive."

William gritted his teeth, feeling a bit too much for comfort. Why did everything have to be so damn messy? "Call the BAU team", he ordered in the end. "I think they need to know about this as soon as possible."

* * *

><p>To Derek hospitals weren't pleasant places. As he lay on one of the painfully uncomfortable beds of ward 27 he truly feared he'd go out of his mind if the stream of very unpleasant memories wouldn't end soon.<p>

"There's no use in glaring a hole on the wall, you know?" Emily pointed out in a voice that sounded far too amused to his liking.

He shot a hard glare towards her, folding his arms. "We've got a serial killer on the loose and I'm expected to spend the night here? Spencer's hurt and Foyet is missing. We've gotta find the Reaper before he gets someone else!" he growled. "You know damn well I shouldn't be here, Prentiss – I'm fine!"

Emily rolled her eyes. "That's one reason why I'm also still stuck here. According to Hotch you're not thinking straigth and I agree. You've got a concussion, and judging by how you're squinting you've got a massive headache as well. We're not going to let you run around chasing psychopaths like this."

Derek snorted. "Hypocrite."

"Big baby", Emily countered.

Mostly thanks to the concussion it took a moment before Derek caught some of Emily's words. One of his eyebrows rose. "You said I'm one reason why you're here. What's the other?"

Before Emily could answer the room's door opened. A male nurse in his fifties with neatly shaved bald head and pale brown eyes gave him a apologetic look. "I'm sorry agent, I know we promised you'd have a single room but the hospital's packed. According to agent Prentiss you wouldn't mind this particular companion."

He frowned but before he got the chance to ask his gaze strayed towards the patient lay on the bed the nurse was wheeling in. His heart gained a foreign beat.

How the hell was it possible that Spencer Reid was in his room? And why did he feel so unsettled by seeing that the man's eyes were closed, by how pale the brunet was? His body didn't make any sense to him at all.

"I asked to get to meet him before I go, to see if I could already ask some questions", Emily explained, her tone oddly soft. He didn't like the meaningful look in her eyes. "And I had a feeling you'd benefit of each other's company."

Before Derek could argue the nurse joined in. "I'm sorry but Dr. Reid just fell asleep and he needs rest. The questions will have to wait until tomorrow."

Derek blinked with surprise. _Dr.?_

Emily gritted her teeth, then pushed herself up from the chair she'd taken over the second she entered the room. "Alright. I'll come back tomorrow morning. I have to go to the station to see if there's anything new." She gave him a sharp look. "You, behave. I'm going to ask the staff to make sure you stay here and in your bed. If you're up to it we'll give you a full briefing in the morning when you're discharged."

Accepting her terms far from happily Derek said his farewells, then watched how his friend left the room with the nurse.

As soon as the room emptied Derek allowed his eyes to wander towards Spencer. "I know you're awake, so you can drop the act."

Slowly yet surely Spencer's eyes opened halfway. Derek felt a unreasonable burst of pain in his chest when he saw how red they were. The genius had clearly been crying.

Derek cleared his throat, feeling extremely uncomfortable all of a sudden. "Look… I heard about Foyet. I'm sorry."

Spencer shook his head, looking briefly towards him. "You don't have to do that, Morgan."

Derek fought the urge to flinch. _Morgan?_ "I know. But…" He trailed off, feeling stupid all of a sudden. He coughed against something unnamed that formed a ball into his throat. "If you want to talk I'll listen. I know…" And once again the words faded away. He'd never felt as much like a idiot in his entire life. "I want to help you, I guess."

Spencer's eyes smouldered when the younger man looked at him. The violinist looked ready to cry and scream at the top of his lungs as the same time. "_Don't_, Morgan. Just don't. You don't have to." The man turned his head away sharply, folding his arms. "You don't have to comfort me out of pity just because we slept together once. You don't owe anything to me."

Derek stared for a moment, stunned by this new chilling air thrown at him. Then, very slowly, he nodded and leaned heavily against his bedsheets. His head was throbbing – he was _not_ in the mood for this discussion right now. He tried, didn't he? "Fine."

"Good", was muttered back at him. Suddenly Derek felt ready to laugh and strangle his companion at the same time.

They were like two damn five-year-olds, no matter how bravely they'd crashed into something very adult a blink ago.

In his immature and unjustified anger Derek almost spat out that the sex wasn't so remarkable, anyway. That it didn't mean _anything_. That he was glad the case would be over soon and he'd be able to turn his back on it all, on Spencer. That soon he wouldn't even remember all this.

But Derek did nothing such. Instead he squeezed his lips tightly together and shifted his gaze to the room's ceiling. He stared until his eyes began to hurt and he had to close them.

And so they lay there, both feigning sleep. Nothing had ever felt so wrong and so damn right.

* * *

><p>Aaron's head hurt.<p>

One of his agents had ended up into a hospital. They'd almost lost a highly important witness. Another witness was missing, highly likely dead. A police officer had been killed. The UnSub was still on the loose. And all he had was a goddamn collection of photos of crime scenes and victims, with the knowledge that soon there'd be more.

Although he'd never admit it out loud there were days when he hated his job.

Thankfully his cell phone interrupted those bitter thoughts. He picked up upon noticing it was Penelope.

"_How's Derek?_" she inquired before he got the chance to say a word.

Under different circumstances Aaron might've fought a smile. "He'll be fine. All he got is a headache. Prentiss just came back from the hospital." He took a breath. "Do you have anything new?"

"_Actually, I do. Remember how you told me to run a background check of George Foyet? I just found something interesting._" She held a small pause but didn't succeed in calming herself. "_That girl he was on a date with when they were attacked, Stephanie… In all official documents Foyet says that he was ready to propose that night but he only met her two weeks earlier. That was their first date._"

Aaron felt very cold all of a sudden. Being right wasn't always pleasant. "Thank you, Garcia", he muttered before hanging up. There was a deep frown on his face as he slipped the cell phone back into his pocket, his eyes still on the photos.

Something wasn't right with this picture.

Slowly yet surely his brain began to form the connections. The pieces of the puzzle were finally sliding in together.

* * *

><p>Derek must've fallen asleep although he couldn't remember having any dreams because he woke up to strange sounds he couldn't identify at first. When he did he found a frown making its way to his face.<p>

Was someone… whimpering?

Opening his eyes he found something that made him blink a couple of times. Spencer, still fast asleep, was tossing and turning in his bed, obviously having a nasty nightmare. Cold sweat glimmered on the younger man's forehead while he muttered incomprehensible words. The sight and sounds broke Derek's heart.

Sure, things were tense and awkward between them. But there was no way he could let Spencer suffer like this.

Derek took a deep breath, then pushed himself out of the bed and made his way to Spencer. His hand was a lot gentler than usual as he lay it on the brunet's shoulder. "Reid, wake up." The other man shifted under his hold, like his hand had burned. "Spencer, you're having a nightmare. Open your eyes."

Spencer did open his eyes, so abruptly that it scared him – but apparently the dream wasn't completely over yet. Much faster than Derek had the chance to avoid it a fist flew his way, slamming to his left cheek.

"Fuck!" he snarled far more loudly than he'd intended.

That snapped Spencer out of his stupor. The man's eyes widened dramatically as he realized what he'd just done. "I… Morgan, I'm so sorry!"

Derek simply shook his head, unsure if he wanted to laugh or curse. "You've got one hell of a right hook."

Spencer shrugged. "You can't play a violin for seven hours every day if your arms and hands are weak." The man then frowned, brushing his cheek with his fingertips. Worry and guilt flashed in those brown eyes. "You're going to get a bruise."

Derek shrugged immediately, despite the fact that his skin was still on flames. _Prentiss and Rossi are never going to let me live this down…_, he mused sullenly. "I've had worse." He wanted to tell Spencer to back off, or to at least pull his damn hand off his face, but in the end he simply licked his lips and shivered. His cheek was throbbing – the rest of his body was… doing something else entirely.

He did _not_ like this, at all. This was disturbing and humiliating.

Derek cleared his throat, finally managing to take a step further. "I… My team is going to come and see you, tomorrow. We need to ask you some questions."

Spencer nodded. Derek could actually see how the younger man withdrew into his shell and a wave of guilt crashed right through him. The young genius folded his arms and looked away. "About the attack?"

Derek nodded until he realized that the other wasn't even looking. His mouth opened for several times before he spoke. "Yeah. We know you have a eidetic memory. You may have spotted something valuable."

Spencer shuddered, appearing ready to vomit. He was quite clearly not ready to face these memories and Derek felt like a bastard for pushing him. "George could be gone. I…" The voice was small, almost frail, until it faded away completely. "Morgan, I was _drugged_. My head wasn't exactly straigth, still isn't. All I remember is bits and pieces."

Derek shrugged, feeling a barely controllable need to grab the other man's hand for support. "It's okay." He sincerily hoped that didn't sound as lame as it tasted. "Just… close your eyes, and let your head lead you."

Spencer didn't seem to hear, anyway. There was a distant, glazed over look in the younger man's eyes. "George… was already asleep. I tried not to wake him up but I'm pretty sure he moved when I left the room. And then I… think I was taking a shower. My thoughts were… twirling." Was that a blush he saw on the other's face? He'd never get to know because all of a sudden the expression changed entirely. Spencer's whole demeanor changed. "Someone entered the bathroom, before it became dark."

Derek frowned, seeing how Spencer's face grew paler and paler right before his eyes. "Reid?" There was no reaction whatsoever. His heart leapt painfully. "Spencer, are you okay? Should I go and get someone?" Because he sure as hell had no idea what to do and it freaked him out.

Spencer didn't hear. The man actually gagged dryly before barely audible words slipped through. "I smelled roses."

Derek's frown deepened while his worry for the younger man grew. "Roses?" What the hell was Spencer talking about?

It took ages but eventually Spencer looked at him. There was a tornado of emotions in the man's eyes, stripped bare and exposed. "You should… I think you should call your team." The genius swallowed convulsively. "George, he's… not a victim, Morgan. I'm pretty sure he's your UnSub."

* * *

><p>On a far edge of the city a lone figure stood on the side of a lonely, quiet road, deep in thought.<p>

For the very first time in his life George Foyet truly _felt_ something. It was a pity, really, that for now he didn't have the chance to explore it any further. From the beginning he'd known that Spencer's intelligence was a risk factor but he'd jumped in anyway, like a moth drawn to a flame. Now he'd have to face the consequences.

Those thoughts floated away when he heard a approaching car. Turning his head he saw a very old blue Sedan that stopped almost directly before him. His senses became overloaded when the car's door was pushed open. The breathtaking smell of weed and deafeningly loud metal music swept his mind blank. And then his eyes strayed on the driver.

She was a very young woman, not even in her twenties. On her she had a extremely short red dress that barely hid her most private parts, along with dangerous looking black high heels. Her long, obviously dyed black hair was a mess and her blue eyes looked like she'd been crying. If she hadn't been wearing too much makeup she would've been beautiful. A one more sad creature from the streets of Vegas.

The girl smirked in what was most likely supposed to be seductive manner. "Hi, stranger. Do you need a ride?"

Slowly yet surely a tiny smile made its way to his face. He wasn't in the position where he could turn his back on help. "You know what… I think I do." He took a step closer. "Where are you headed?"

The girl shrugged, her eyes hardening slightly. He saw scars on her wrists when she moved a strand of hair behind her ear. "Far away from here."

He nodded, very pleased with that response, and slid to the passenger's seat of the vehicle. The heavy music wrapped around him, pounded in his ears. "Sounds good to me."

And so they sped away from Las Vegas, soon leaving behind Nevada, one of them missed by no one and the other searched by a full army of people.

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><p>TBC, right?<p>

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><p>AN: It looks like the truth is starting to become unraveled. Poor Reid – 'can't even imagine how I'd feel in his shoes. (shudders)

**PLEASE**, leave a review to let me know your thoughts and feelings! Was this chapter worth the wait, at all? Or should I bury this after all? I'd really, really love to hear what ya think. (glances hopefully)

IN THE NEXT ONE (if ya still feel up to it): As Foyet disappears it becomes clear that Reid isn't exactly safe. What happens when Reid and Morgan decide to set things straigth before it's too late? And what's Foyet's next move? A surprising decision is made and it's about to push three fates to entirely different tracks...

Until next time, whichever story that may be with! I really hope I'll be seeing ya around.

Take care!

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><p><strong>Hatsuharu M<strong>: Yup, it sure looks that way. (grins) BUT, this isn't exactly good. We'll see just how much of a trouble those two end up facing… (shudders)

Let's hope Morgan gets the chance to make things right.

Huge thank yous for the review!

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><p><strong>Katsakura<strong>: Gosh, I truly hope you're still looking forward to more!

We'll see what happens as the snowball keeps on rolling…

Monumental thank yous for the review!

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><p><strong>Winter Cicada<strong>: They're nasty, aren't they? (groans) And I kept you waiting for so long, too!

I really, REALLY hope you'll enjoy the next bit!

Colossal thank yous for the review!

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><p><strong>nicolethecrazyone<strong>: Seriously? (beams) You've got no idea how glad I am to hear that! I really hope the next bit will please you as much.

Massive thank yous for the review!


	8. Unknown Subject

A/N: Yes, I AM still alive. And so is this story. (grins sheepishly)

I'm truly, utterly sorry that I've been missing for so long! Lately I've had a lot of stuff I've been forced to work through. My head's been MESS. (winces) I tried to emerge from it a couple of times but… it just didn't feel right, ya know? (sighs) BUT, now I'm FINALLY back on track. And you know, I think I fell in love with this story all over again. (grins) It's a really good feeling!

Before getting on with the story, THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart for all those reviews! (GLOMPS) You can't even imagine how much each of them meant to me! You've been more help than you'll ever know. So thank you!

Awkay… (shudders, and takes a deep breath) I REALLY hope this turn out worth the awfully long wait! Let's rock.

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><p>Unknown Subject<p>

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><p>When Spencer woke up he wasn't immediately aware of where he was. He opened his eyes quickly and pulled in a couple of panicked breaths until he recognized the hospital room. As soon as memories clicked into place an elephant crashed onto his chest.<p>

Sometimes having an eidetic memory wasn't such a bliss.

His thoughts strayed elsewhere when he realized that he wasn't alone. Derek's voice carried quietly from a far edge of the room. Turning his head slightly Spencer discovered that the agent was already wearing his own clothes and talking to a cell phone. "… got nothing? How did he manage to just…?" It was then Derek noticed that he was awake. The man swallowed loudly. "I'll get to the station in a bit. I need to talk to Spencer first." So saying the man hung up and tried to smile at him. "Hey there, about time for you to wake up. The doctor discharged me a while back and you should get out in a few hours, too."

It was Spencer's turn to gulp. Everything inside him felt utterly cold. "So… George got away?"

Derek looked at him long and hard, clearly wondering if he was ready to hear this. In the end the man sighed. "Look, Spencer…"

His eyes narrowed. "I'm not a child, Morgan", he hissed through his teeth. "If you want to keep me safe and protected you can't withhold information from me."

Derek's jaw tightened and the man looked away before focusing on him once more. "There were several roadblocks, put together as soon as we found out who we were after, but somehow Foyet managed to slip through."

Spencer felt sick to his stomach and had to fight to keep it from showing. "Someone must've helped him", he concluded in a oddly hollow voice and wrapped his arms tightly around himself.

It didn't help. He could still feel George's hands and lips on him.

He could still smell the roses.

The sick feeling came flooding back.

"Hey." This time the hand he felt wasn't George's. Derek was looking at him with genuine worry and sympathy, dark eyes evaluating. "Are you hanging in there? I know that this all is a lot to take in."

His eyes narrowed slightly as two beasts clashed inside him, one of them wanting to take advantage of this moment and the other screaming at him to hurry up with lifting the shields before he'd get hurt again. The latter won. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't profile me all the time." He got up a bit less gracefully than he'd intended and was reminded harshly that his body was still working through the past twenty-eight hours. "I'm going to the bathroom. I'll be back in a second." With that as his final verdict he made his way away, no matter how cold it felt without Derek's touch.

In the isolation and security of the tiny bathroom it finally washed over him.

George was the first person he'd ever trusted with his body, perhaps even soul. Aside his mom George was the first one he'd let close enough to give a chance to hurt him. George had sneaked so close to him that he'd failed to see the man's true colors. Now he was left wondering if George imagined killing him, watching very life leaving his eyes, every time they…

Spencer had never felt as violated in his entire life.

At that moment he allowed tears to fall and gritted his teeth with all his might to keep himself from screaming out some of the acid coursing through his veins.

* * *

><p>Walking out of the room Derek was so worked up that he was taken aback by surprise when his eyes spotted William Reid. The man appeared throughoutly exhausted and Derek felt tempted to wonder if he'd been in the hospital all night.<p>

Finally spotting him William offered a tiny, tired smile. "Hey. I came to take you to the station. I understood you wanted to return to work as soon as possible."

Derek nodded quickly. "Yeah, I do." He needed to get his mind back on track before he'd snap.

He wondered if William knew somehow, for as they began to walk the man spoke. "I know my son isn't the easiest person to get close to. I'm one of the people responsible for that. But he really needs support right now." The man went on before he got the chance to say a word. "I'm not stupid. I know what the nature of my son's relationship with George Foyet was."

Derek frowned. "Why are you telling me this?"

William shrugged. "Because it looks like you could finally be someone who won't give up or walk out on him."

Every single muscle in Derek's body stiffened. "I'm not gay." He was getting sick and tired of saying that, of having to prove himself time and time again.

The look William gave him told that he'd said too much. "I never said you would be."

They didn't speak another word until they made it to the station.

* * *

><p>Right outside Nevada a car pulled out before a tiny, rather isolated house.<p>

Blue eyes darted towards the passenger's side of the vehicle. "I thought you wanted to go ghost as soon as possible."

George Foyet's eyes flashed dangerously. He licked his lips and shivered with anticipation. "There's… something I need to take care of first", he stated. The blade hidden into his clothes _burned_ against his skin, screamed to be used. He glanced towards the battle scarred girl beside him. "Will you wait for me?" He needed the ride, after all, and she was the only person he could trust at this point. Besides, her company wasn't completely undesirable.

She smirked. "Sure thing, sugar." She lit a cigarette, stretching her long legs the best as she could. "Just hurry up before I get bored."

George's eyes flashed while something stirred inside him.

This girl and Spencer… Although they had amazingly lot in common they'd turned out to become yin and yang, polar opposites with tiny spots of each other in them. He wondered with a degree of curiosity how they'd react to each other if they'd ever meet.

Banishing that thought with the knowledge that he didn't have time to waste he emerged from the vehicle, never once looking back. It was perfectly quiet as he walked on.

* * *

><p>While preparing to finally leave the hospital room Spencer found his thoughts spinning in a mad, unreasonable blur. Looking out the window he allowed his eyes to linger on the forever bright city spreading down below.<p>

Spencer couldn't remember why but he'd been afraid of the dark since he was a little child. That's why Las Vegas had been the ideal place for him. It was a city where the lights never went out completely, where darkness never won. Even during the darkest times of his life he'd never lost his faith in the city's ability to pull him back into light.

Not until now.

As he looked at the city all he could think of was George Foyet. His hand found the mark the Reaper had left on his shoulder upon attacking him.

The all-seeing eye. George would always follow him, keep an eye on him.

He'd always sworn that he wouldn't end up being like his father, that he wouldn't run away from his problems. But now… Now, for the first time, he could actually understand why his father had walked away from a life that'd become too much of a burden.

Maybe they weren't as different as he'd thought, after all.

"Penny for your thoughts", Emily Prentiss, who'd appeared to pick him up, offered.

Spencer gulped, wondering how to address this to someone he didn't even really know. He bit his lip, feeling stupid. "I just… I was trying to figure out what my next move should be."

Emily smiled, just a little bit. "You make this sound like a game of chess."

Spencer frowned. "Was that a joke?" Because he really needed one at the moment.

It took a moment before Emily seemed to realize he'd been serious. She stifled a laugh. "Yeah, it was."

Spencer looked at her, then at his hands that were trembling. He rubbed them with a great deal of embarrassment, hoping that she wouldn't notice. He had to clear his throat before he managed to speak. "I just… I was wondering if it's always like this, for those that survive. If the shadows never disappear."

Emily looked at him, clearly wondering how honest she could be. "I'm… not sure if life will ever be the same", she finally stated. "But how deep under your skin it gets… I think it's up to you. You can choose how far into the dark you dive."

Spencer pressed his lips together, savoring the taste of her words. He glanced towards the discharge papers in his hands, wrote a one more signature and breathed in. It was time to go. "I've… been thinking about moving out of Las Vegas", he blurted out all of a sudden, deciding to trust the strange sensation of familiarity between them.

Emily looked at him with a slight bit of surprise, then nodded, her eyes softer than he'd ever seen them. "I think that sounds like a pretty good idea." He was glad she didn't mention Derek, that she didn't ask if he'd move to Virginia. It was something he was still debating over with himself – he didn't feel any desire to discuss it with others.

As they were about to leave he came to think of something. "Oh, and Emily?" He licked his lips. "I'd… appreciate it if you didn't tell Morgan what I just said. I want to…" He trailed off, not entirely sure what he wanted to say.

Emily seemed to know, though. She smiled once more and nodded. "Sure thing", she promised. "This stays between you and me." She gave him a beat's pause. "Now let's get to the station before William starts to wonder what's taking us so long."

* * *

><p>It was a very long time from when reporter Jeremy Quartz last thought of George Foyet. But lately the man had entered his mind again as he followed the news of the Reaper's return. Chills traveled down his spine every time he listened to the news reports on new attacks.<p>

He wasn't a genius, but certainly no fool either. He remembered every single one of the stories on the Reaper he'd written – they were the reason he'd been famous for a while. Some of the things he'd claimed… If the psychopath was really at large once more,he didn't think the monster would be happy with him.

That's why he'd left his girlfriend with basically no goodbye, resigned from a job he'd always loved and moved out of Vegas, into this rotten hut in the middle of nowhere. He was supposed to be safe, invisible.

So why did he wake up from exhausted sleep to the sounds of footsteps?

He bounced from his couch, wide awake in a matter of seconds. It took a couple of seconds before he recognized the figure stood in shadows by the room's doorway.

"Hello, Jeremy", George Foyet greeted like he'd been a long lost friend.

Jeremy's eyes widened and for some reason the hair in the back of his neck rose as he took a step backwards, his whole body reacting to the other man's presence. "Foyet?" What the hell was going on?

The man approached him calmly, like a experienced predator closing in on its pray. "You and I… I think it's high time we finally have a proper talk."

* * *

><p>Back at the police station the team had gathered into the main room, around a cardboard box William Reid had just brought in. "My men finished up with Foyet's apartment a while ago", the man explained. "This had been hidden into his clothes room."<p>

Derek peered eagerly into the box, glad to work on something he felt comfortable with. "What's in it?" he inquired.

William spread the entire contents of the box for them to see. They all shivered.

The box… It was full of old articles on the Reaper. It didn't take long before they noticed that most of them had been written by the same man.

Jeremy Quartz.

George Foyet had clearly read each article carefully. The paper was wrinkled and thin, full of markings. It didn't take long before they noticed that certain parts were highlighted with flaming red color.

'_…The Reaper presumed dead…_'

'_…most feared serial killer has either died or been arrested._'

'_…can finally breathe in a sigh of relief?_'

"Foyet's been keeping an eye on Quartz's work", Derek managed after a extremely long pause, getting a very nasty feeling.

"Yeah", Emily's voice joined in all of a sudden. "And I doubt he'd be happy about someone writing stuff like that."

Derek's eyes immediately darted towards his teammate. "How's Spencer?" he inquired, not giving a damn about the weird looks he received. It felt unnerving to care so much.

Emily shrugged. He pretended he didn't notice the arched eyebrow. "As fine as can be expected. He's in the breakroom now, getting some coffee."

Derek couldn't control himself. He was on the move before anyone could say a thing. "I'm going to check up on him", he announced. "Maybe he remembers something useful."

Fortunately it seemed the others were too wrapped around the new lead to really pay attention to his odd behaviour. He heard Aaron speak just before he was out of earshot. "The Reaper wouldn't let something like this slide. I'm calling Garcia. We'll have to find Quartz…"

Derek had had no idea of what he was doing to begin with. That's why it wasn't a huge surprise that he froze by the breakroom's doorway as soon as he saw Spencer. He'd come over to talk, but what the heck was he supposed to say?

Maybe he should just…

It was too late to retreat. Startled by his sudden presence Spencer looked up with slightly widened eyes. He couldn't quite read the expression that morphed on the younger man's face when the brunet recognized him. "Hey."

Derek didn't know if he wanted to snort or smile at that. "Hey", he greeted back, examining the other with his eyes. Spencer's hands were shaking so badly that he barely managed to hold a mug of coffee and there was a great deal of tension on the brunet's face. He wasn't entirely sure why but he would've given quite a bit if he'd been able to chase some of the unease away.

Surprisingly it was Spencer who cut the stiff silence between them. "I'm… sorry I snapped at you, at the hospital. It was uncalled for."

Derek shrugged. "Don't worry about it. You're dealing with a lot of stress right now. It's only understandable that your nerves get the best of you sometimes."

Spencer studied his face carefully, and little by little something melted in the man's brown eyes. "Yeah", the brunet breathed out, taking a sip of his coffee. "I guess so." This time the silence that followed was comfortable.

Derek had absolutely no idea where the lines went between the two of them. That's why he hesitated for the longest time before speaking. "Look… I know there's a lot going on in your life right now, and I may be the last thing you need. But…" He trailed off for a moment, feeling like he'd been a teenager all over again. He readjusted his weight restlessly. "When you need and want someone to talk to… I'll be there, okay? I really want to help you."

Spencer looked at him, and he wasn't sure why he felt slightly hurt by the open shock on the man's face. "Why?" There was no accusation or anger, only pure confusion – disbelief. Perhaps that was what hurt the most.

They'd slept together, for crying out loud! Did Spencer really think that he didn't give a damn?

But then again… Could he really blame Spencer?

Derek never got the chance to answer because just then the room's door opened. There was a look Derek knew better than well on David Rossi's face. "Garcia's got something."

The three of them made their way to the rest of the team, Spencer following a couple of steps behind Derek. Everyone was staring at Aaron's phone. "You're on speaker", the unit chief announced. "We're all here."

"_Jeremy Quartz moved out of Vegas and vanished completely a while ago. But I wouldn't be worthy of my reputation if that would stop me. Just before disappearing he emptied a bank account. The next day someone by the name of John Smith bought a house just outside Nevada with that exact same amount of money. It was paid in cash._"

A shockwave crossed the room. "What's the address?" Aaron inquired in a tense, sharp tone and wrote down the answer Penelope gave him. As soon as the phone call was finished the unit chief looked at them all. "Let's go. We've gotta get there before Foyet finds him."

Derek nodded slowly, feeling dizzy. Could this really be over soon?

Just as he was about to walk away Derek heard Spencer's voice. "Morgan." There was something he'd never seen before in the younger man's eyes, and despite the folded arms it made him feel warm all over. "Be careful."

He nodded once more. And suddenly leaving was the last thing he wanted to do. "I will be", he promised, then kept going. Not looking over his shoulder was one of the hardest things he'd ever done.

Staring at the direction towards which Derek had gone Spencer exhaled, his chest burning with how tight it'd become. He didn't manage to inhale properly. He wrapped his arms even more tightly around himself and gritted his teeth.

All he could do was wait.

* * *

><p>A while later Derek's heart pounded as the team closed in on the tiny house, accompanied by the local police. No matter how hard he swallowed his throat kept feeling dry.<p>

Aaron moved, catching his attention. The man made some hand signals and the rest of them nodded in agreement, each of them knowing their job.

Derek's half of the group, which consisted of David and two men from the local police, began to approach the backdoor while Aaron led Emily and two more officers towards the front door. All they could do was hope that they weren't a blink too late already. That just this once they'd be faster than the Reaper.

None of them noticed how a car that'd been parked rather nearby took off.

Inside the house Jeremy trembled to the very core of his being as he sat in front of his laptop, typing although his fingers trembled beyond any control. While writing he was all too aware of the blade held on his throat. Threatening tears almost blurred his eyes.

How the hell had he gotten himself into a situation like this?

"You told them I was dead, or locked up", George hissed into his ear. "You told them I'd lost. I'm going to give you a chance to fix that mistake before I finish things with you."

Jeremy emitted a choked sob, his whole body trembling even worse than before. "Please…", he pleaded, tossing all pride to the wind. "Please, don't…! Please…"

George snorted. "Pathetic." The knife was pushed just a little bit more tightly against his skin. "Now keep typing. I want you to tell the world the true story."

As Jeremy swallowed down another sob and attempted to keep typing he saw something that made his heart skip a beat.

On the laptop's screen flashed a reflection of two men and two guns. George and he weren't alone anymore.

And then everything sped forward.

* * *

><p>TBC, OR NOT?<p>

* * *

><p>AN: The heat is ON. (shudders) And in case you're wondering, each cut with the actual series storyline in intentional – such as the reporter. (grins)

Soooo… How was that? Any good, at all? **PLEASE**, leave a note to let me hear from you! (gives puppy's eyes) I've just come back from a LONG break so I'm pretty insecure about… everything, basically. (sweatdrops)

IN THE NEXT ONE (if you still feel up to it after all the waiting…): Things climax with Foyet, but is it really over? Reid reveals a decision that once again shakes the ground under him and Morgan.

I HAVE THE NEXT CHAPTER PLANNED OUT. So if you want to keep reading I'm pretty sure that I'd FOR ONCE manage a pretty quick update.

Thank you so much for sticking around with me, guys! (HUGS) I REALLY hope I'll see ya around later, too.

Take care!

* * *

><p><strong>Scarlett<strong>: Yosh! (beams)

Poor Spencer, no? Oh gosh, can't even imagine how he must be feeling at this point. (winces)

Gigantic thank yous for the review!

* * *

><p><strong>lynn<strong>: My goodness! (gasps and grins from ear to ear) That was HUGE compliment, ya know?

Enormous thank yous for the ego inflating review!

* * *

><p><strong>Winter Cicada<strong>: Let's say that I'm glad to hear you've toughened up against cliffies… (sweatdrops)

Oh dear! (beams beat red) You can't even imagine how happy your kind words made me. (HUGS) I can't believe someone's capable of enjoying my writing that much.

Why the heck is Reid so easy to pick on? The poor guy! (huggles)

HUGE thank yous for the AMAZING review!

* * *

><p><strong>nicolethecrazyone<strong>: It makes you happy? (smiles) Ah, that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy!

I'm really glad you're firmly on board.

Colossal thank yous for the review!


	9. Sense Memory

A/N: See, see? I AM coming back to life. (grins) 'Figured you guys deserved a relatively fast update. (grins sheepishly)

Thank you so much for your reviews, guys! (GLOMPS) The love you've given this story makes me happier than you could ever imagine. So THANK YOU! I hope this chapter won't make you regret sticking around… (sweatdrops)

Let's go, yeah? I REALLY hope you'll enjoy this one.

* * *

><p>Sense Memory<p>

* * *

><p>Those five minutes in that tiny house seemed to last a lifetime to Derek.<p>

He, followed a officer from the local police, was the first one to get close to George Foyet. He lifted his gun, only the knife held on Jeremy Quartz's throat rooting him to the spot.

Foyet stilled completely and tilted his head but didn't turn to look. "I had a feeling you might find me."

Derek's eyes narrowed dangerously and his finger twitched eagerly closer to the trigger. "Put the knife down, Foyet. You've already made sure you're all over the news. You don't need to harm him anymore."

Foyet emitted a sound he couldn't identify. "With all your experience, is that the best you've got?"

"Put… the knife… down", Derek hissed. He'd never been a very patient man. Today didn't feel like a good day to change his ways.

A sob was torn from Jeremy's throat when Foyet toyed with the knife. "It was Spencer, wasn't it? He was the one who sent you after me."

Lava coursed through Derek's veins and it took his all to keep his body from starting to shake. He didn't want to talk about Spencer with Foyet, not when there were so many people – including his superior – listening. "I'm not going to let you bring him into this."

Foyet laughed, which sounded bizarre to his ears. "Don't you understand, Derek? He's already _in this_. There's no changing it."

Everything inside Derek roared. His finger twitched with desire to just pull the trigger and… "Let Jeremy go", he snarled.

It wasn't until then he realized that Aaron had also made his way nearby. The unit chief's eyes gleamed with concentration. "You're going to need him alive, Foyet. He's the one who's going to keep your reputation alive, he's the one who'll tell your story."

Foyet actually fidgeted a bit at that. "I don't need him."

"Make a cut on him…", Derek hissed. "… and I will kill you."

There was a infinity of nothing. "Derek?" There wasn't the slightest change in Foyet's voice. The hand holding the knife on Jeremy quivered with restrained anticipation. "Tell Spencer to keep practicing Chopin's Nocturne. It's the just about only thing he doesn't play perfectly yet." And then, so suddenly that it brought a huge shockwave into the room, it was all over.

Metal clattered as the knife was dropped and Foyet raised his hands, slowly and calmly. Before Derek managed to make a move the officer from the local police was all over Foyet. Derek was glad. There was no telling what he would've done.

As Foyet was led past him the man gave him a look that made him shiver and smiled, then fixed his eyes elsewhere. The moment couldn't have lasted more than a couple of seconds but somehow it sneaked deep under Derek's skin.

Somehow he got a feeling that maybe this wasn't as over as he'd thought.

It wasn't until then he became aware of the sounds of sobs and noticed Jeremy, who was still sitting firmly still, face buried into one furiously trembling hand. A stab of sympathy traveled through him as he made his way to the man and laid a hand on a uneven shoulder. "Come on, let's get the hell out of here."

* * *

><p>As soon as William Reid jumped out of his car he knew it was already over. His heart thumped madly until it stopped altogether when Foyet was escorted out of the house, firmly cuffed. They looked at each other for exactly ten seconds. "It's over", he stated, surprised by how calm his voice sounded despite all the adrenaline coursing through him.<p>

Foyet, however, grinned and shook his head. "Oh no, it's not." The man leaned closer and continued quietly, so that only the two of them heard. "I… will be far, far more famous than you could ever imagine." With those words the killer was pushed into a police car.

Cold seeping into the core of his being William stared at the disappearing car until he heard steps. There was a look of cautious relief on Aaron's face as the man walked towards him. "We managed to get Jeremy out alive. It's finally over."

Once again looking towards the direction to which the car had disappeared with its dangerous cargo, William found himself wondering. "Is it?"

Aaron didn't respond, instead gave him a pat on the back and walked back towards where the officers, Derek, Emily and David were securing the house and interviewing Jeremy. In a few moments William followed, trying to ignore the disturbing feeling that there was someone watching him.

* * *

><p>Considering how exceptional of a serial killer Foyet was, the end of it all was anti-climatic to say the least. Foyet was taken away. EMTs made a full checkup on Jeremy before the man was allowed to go and spend the night at his friend's place, to move on and share his story. Foyet would face his trial eventually. The families of his victims would finally have a peace of mind. The BAU-team would do a load of paperwork to wrap things up. It was basically all over.<p>

Only, as Derek entered the police station he realized that it wasn't quite over yet.

Spencer was sitting in the station's break room with a tense, distraught look on his face, trembling so badly that Derek could see it. It wasn't very hard to figure out that the young man had probably never left the station since the team headed after Foyet.

He shivered a little upon feeling a hand on his shoulder. Glancing to side he discovered Emily who was looking at him with demanding eyes. "Go. Talk to him." Her authoritative tone suggested that she'd spent far too much time with Aaron. Derek made a mental note to point it out to her later. "And make damn sure you both get some proper rest. I'm going to the hotel before I fall asleep standing up."

At that moment Derek felt something foreign to him. Fear. Fear of what, he had no idea. He frowned. "What about paperwork?"

Emily rolled her eyes before they narrowed. "Just go. For both your sakes."

Derek's eyes strayed back towards Spencer. The brunet must've been deep in thought because the man still hadn't noticed him. It would've been the easiest thing in the world to turn around and head to the hotel, to let Aaron or William do all the explaining to Spencer.

Too bad Derek had never grown used to taking the easy way out.

Spencer didn't know what he was waiting for. A sign of sorts, perhaps – that feeling inside from fictional books. But the truth was that he didn't _feel _anything but panic and confusion until Derek stood by the breakroom's doorway once more. There was a loudly speaking look on the dark skinned man's face. Spencer tried to stand up but for some reason his feet wouldn't function the way he would've wanted.

"Well?" he demanded in a tight voice. He needed to hear it before he'd be able to believe it.

Derek nodded, seemed to come close to smiling. "It's over, Spencer. Foyet's been arrested. Jeremy is safe."

For the longest time Spencer stared at the older man, trying to grasp on the emotions he knew he _should've_ been feeling. Such as relief. Such as happiness. But for one reason or another other things flowed over.

With his mind's eye he saw all those roses – just like he saw the pictures of all those victims.

He felt George's kiss – just as easily as he felt the man drugging him in the shower.

He felt George inside him – and of course, perhaps even more clearly, he felt the mark the man had left on his shoulder.

He fought back a retch, one of his hands instinctively reaching out to scratch the mark on his shoulder although he knew very well it wouldn't go anywhere. George wouldn't go anywhere.

He felt Derek's eyes on him and shivered. He'd never liked being stared at. "Are you okay?" the agent inquired in the end.

Spencer nodded a bit too sharply and licked his lips. "I'm fine." He couldn't have this particular conversation with Derek. He wasn't ready to open himself up this way, especially when he didn't know…

They were quiet for the longest time, neither quite knowing what to say. "Can I give you a ride home?" Derek inquired quietly in the end.

They looked at each other, knowing full well where this was going. They were both shook up, vulnerable. If Derek would take him home the man would offer to spend the night and Spencer wouldn't be able to refuse. Then…

The sound of the room's door opening startled them both. Derek jumped further from him like the agent had been doing something forbidden as William peered in, a slightly cautious look on his face. "Spencer, can I… give you a ride? We need to talk."

Spencer weighed down his options, and in the end chose the less dangerous one. "Yeah", he breathed out, feeling a quiver inside him. "Let's go." While putting on his jacket with unsteady hands he glanced back towards Derek once more. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Derek nodded slowly, appearing slightly dazed. "Yeah… See you tomorrow."

And so Spencer left, feeling the eyes on him as he went.

He and Derek didn't sleep that night.

* * *

><p>The following morning Derek woke up with a sore back from the about twenty minutes of sleep he'd managed to have on the hotel room's couch. He glanced towards the clock on his cell phone and groaned.<p>

Ten past six. Since when had he started waking up early?

Since Spencer sneaked into his head, he concluded, deciding to take a cold shower to regain at least some sanity before he'd have to face anyone else.

By the time he made it the station he was a bit more surprised than he should've been to discover that he wasn't the first one to arrive. A frown appeared to his face when he saw Aaron, Spencer and William emerging from the older Reid's office. It bothered him a lot more than it should've to discover that Spencer looked even more exhausted than he felt. "Is… everything okay?" he inquired.

Aaron nodded, something Derek didn't like hiding in his eyes. '_We need to talk_', was the unvoiced message. "We just had a discussion over some arrangements. Spencer will be coming to Quantico with us."

For the longest time Derek honestly thought he was still sleeping and dreaming. As reality dawned it felt like a bucket of ice cold water had been poured on him and his breath caught into his throat. "Oh." _Oh fuck…_

Spencer didn't seem any more comfortable with the revelation than he was. The brunet actually fidgeted with anxiety. "I… The thing is, I… I don't think I can live in Vegas anymore. I need to leave, at least for a while. And now… I've got the chance to do that."

Derek blinked thrice, feeling dangerously lightheaded. "So you just… leave everything?" He hoped his tone wasn't as sharp and accusative as he feared. After all Spencer wasn't doing anything wrong. It wasn't Spencer's fault that…

Spencer nodded stiffly. "For a while." The attempt of a smile didn't turn out quite right. "It's high time for me to leave Vegas."

They all but stared at each other, a million unvoiced words coursing in the short distance between them. Derek hoped from the bottom of his heart that they would've been alone, that there would've been a chance to _talk_. But even if there had been, would he have been ready?

"Morgan." If it wasn't for Aaron's voice Derek had no idea how long his mind might've been floating around. The unit chief's face appeared even tighter than usual. "Could you take Spencer to his apartment, so he can take care of the preparations? Then come back so we'll get the paperwork done."

Derek nodded slowly, still feeling like he'd been floating in a dream. Although there would've been a million things to talk through Spencer and he didn't speak a word until they made it to his rental car. Talking would've been too dangerous.

It wasn't until they'd been driving for five minutes Spencer spoke quietly. "Could you…?" The genius bit his lips. "I know you're busy, but… Could you take me somewhere, before my apartment?" There was naked despair in the younger man's voice and eyes. "It… wouldn't take long."

Derek nodded, his heart making moves that felt uncomfortable. "Sure." Saying 'no' was becoming far too difficult.

Spencer gave him the address and the direction, after which it became quiet. The kind of quiet that made the sounds of the vehicle deafeningly loud. And Derek couldn't help wondering what he was getting himself into.

* * *

><p>Spencer's heart raced as Derek and he had almost reached their destination.<p>

He'd always done this alone. He didn't know what the hell he'd been thinking when asking the agent to give him a ride.

Well, it was too late already. They were there.

Spencer waited with a baited breath, not daring to look towards Derek. He didn't want to see the rejection.

It took a lifetime before he heard Derek's barely audible words. "A… sanitarium?" The look darted his way was more demanding and worried than repulsed which probably should've calmed him down a little bit. "Why did you want to come here?"

Spencer would've given a lot if he'd had the courage to reveal the truth but his tongue became tied. Instead he gulped, then climbed out of the vehicle like it'd burned. "Wait here, okay?" He didn't like how desperate his voice sounded. "I'll be back in a bit." And so he left, trying to ignore how much he would've wanted to go back and…

She's had a haircut, was the next coherent thought that entered Spencer's buzzing head.

Spencer wasn't aware of the doctor stood beside him until the man spoke. "She's… been having a rough day today. She's been refusing medication. I'm afraid I can only give you five minutes."

Spencer nodded, feeling cold and sick all over. Maybe this was a horrible idea, after all – this visit, moving out of Vegas… "Okay", he breathed out. "Thank you." So saying he began to approach the woman sitting on a couch not too far away, deciding to make what he could of those five short minutes.

The woman shivered when he sat beside her and looked at him with wide, mistrusting eyes, almost dropping the book she'd been reading. It took all Spencer had to smile. "Hi mom."

Diana Reid stared at him for a moment, then smiled before her face became serious once more. "Spencer? What's wrong? I can tell something's bothering you."

He swallowed, fighting the urge to break down into tears. She needed him to be the strong one of the two of them. "I… Mom, I have to go away for a while, okay? So it'll take a while before I can visit you again. But… But I'll be fine. There's just something I need to deal with."

For a moment his mom simply stared at him. Then something he'd grown all too used to since his childhood burst through. "They're taking you away, aren't they? They're trying to get to you!" They got up at the exact same time, as though they'd been in a heated argument. She started pulling her hair, tears seeping from her flaming eyes. "I'm not letting them hurt my son! I'm not letting them take you from me!"

Out of the corner of his eye Spencer saw a couple of nurses approaching her. Instead of relief he felt a hurricane of nausea, disappointment and guilt. As soon as the nurses got to her he turned away from his mom with most likely visible reluctance, his head spinning a million miles per hour and his eyes stinging like there'd been acid in them.

He should've known better than this, damnit!

Spencer turned, and saw Derek. His eyes flew wide.

Upon leaving his car Derek had decided to be subtle. Easy in, easy out. He'd satisfy his twisted curiosity and slip out before Spencer would ever have to know.

He should've known there were no easy outs with Spencer.

It took the longest time before Spencer managed to make his way to him and he could see reluctance written all over the younger man's face. The brunet swallowed loudly. "I… You were supposed to wait in the car."

Derek had a feeling that he should've apologized but somehow he couldn't. Instead his eyes strayed towards the woman who was fighting the nurses, screaming words that didn't make any sense to him. His stomach knotted. "Is… she your mom?"

Spencer twitched like he'd just hurt the man physically and looked away, then nodded slowly. The genius licked his lips. "She's been here since… since I was eighteen."

It took a long moment before things clicked together in Derek's sleep deprived mind. He nearly winced. _Shit…!_ It took some thought to gather the words. "I can only imagine how hard it was, but… You did the right thing, you know? You did it because you care about her. This is where she gets the best possible care."

Spencer didn't appear as convinced when the man nodded, attempting to smile and failing.

Derek was glad Spencer had his back towards his mom, that the brunet didn't see how two nurses closed in on the woman and gave her an injection despite her heated protests, how they had to fight her, how they escorted her away while her legs barely supported her weight. Derek was glad Spencer didn't see although he had a feeling the younger man had, far more times than he liked to imagine.

Testingly, subtly, Derek took a step closer and wrapped one arm around Spencer's unstable shoulders. He preferred not thinking of how well it seemed to fit. "C'mon", he murmured. "Let's go."

They didn't speak on their way back to the car. It wasn't until they sat down and the doors had been closed to the rest of the world, to the reality outside the vehicle, Derek finally found the voice to utter words. "Thank you, for trusting me with this."

The tiny, sad smile that appeared to Spencer's face broke his heart. "I've… never really had anyone to trust this with before."

All of a sudden Derke was far too aware of certain facts.

Of how close to Spencer he was sitting. Of how his hand had at some point taken a hold of the brunet's. Of how very little he wanted to get out of the situation.

And before Derek could stop it the beast inside took over.

Spencer's heart thumped in his throat as the other man leaned closer, the dark skinned man's body language leaving nothing to be questioned. Strong fingers made their way right through his hair, both determinedly and awkwardly. And although he was horrified Spencer found his own body responding, leaning just a little bit closer. Derek's forehead was rested against his and the agent breathed loudly, eyes closed and trembling like he'd been scared out of his mind.

The kiss came quickly, like an ambush of some sort, and Spencer actually emitted a sound of startle before his lips reacted automatically.

And then he saw George Foyet, right before his eyes.

Spencer wasn't sure which one of them pulled away first but all of a sudden they were sitting as far from each other as the vehicle allowed, staring directly ahead and breathing erratically.

Spencer counted that the silence had continued for two minutes and twenty-seven seconds before he spoke in a tiny, child like voice. He cleared his throat and licked his lips. "We should go, now." He felt like an idiot, which was quite an accomplishment for someone with the IQ of 187.

Derek nodded slowly, a bizarre dazed look in his eyes. "Yeah. We should." With that the agent started the car. Neither spoke as they drove off.

* * *

><p>Derek didn't know what strings Aaron and David pulled to get Spencer into the team's jet and suspected he was happier that way. How things ended there, however, was quite insignificant in comparison to the situation at hand.<p>

Derek had always been a confident person. But being in the extremely confined space with Spencer made him feel like there'd been a rope wrapped around his neck and a bomb ticking in the place of his heart. The events in the car flashed through his mind, blurring together with their one night of passion, their kiss in the elevator and very unwanted memories of Carl Buford.

What the hell was he supposed to do with Spencer when everything inside him was torn in two, when the dangerous option ahead of him was alluring and absolutely horrifying at the same time?

_This_ was _not_ his thing – men were not his thing. He wasn't supposed to feel these… urges.

But he did. And just one look at the way Spencer's eyes strayed towards him time after time and how the brunet shuddered whenever he was near revealed that he wasn't alone.

The flight had lasted for nearly a lifetime when Derek found himself emerging from the toilet for the tenth time, musing that if his teammates were paying any attention to his actions they were bound to become suspicious. In an instant he saw that Spencer was practically fidgeting on the seat the brunet had taken as soon as he'd walked into the jet, subtly just a slight distance away from the team. At that moment Derek _knew_ that they'd have to talk.

Derek stood there for a moment, evaluating the situation. Aaron was writing something in a far corner of the jet, most likely already preparing a report. David and JJ were fast asleep, and it looked like Emily wasn't too far from oblivion. Spencer, however, was wide awake, reading a book although it looked like his concentration was a million miles away.

This could be his only chance. And so he braced himself.

Spencer's eyes widened slightly when the man lifted his gaze from the book to find him. "Hey." The man cleared his throat and looked away once more. "So, uh… About the…"

While taking a seat beside the younger man Derek shook his head quickly, as though trying to shake off a horrible nightmare. "I didn't handle the situation like I should've, and I'm sorry." He scratched his scalp, wondering how in the world he was supposed to work through this one. It was never this complicated with women. "You just showed me something that required a huge amount of trust and I…" He fumbled for words for a moment before uttering the honest, naked truth. "I screwed up." Spencer was _not_ ready, not after the turmoil with Foyet. As for himself, Derek didn't know what the fuck he was or wasn't. What he did…

"Morgan." The soft tone cut all his self pitying thoughts, made his crashland back into reality. Spencer wasn't smiling but there was something in his eyes that made Derek feel warm all over. "I'm… still glad I trusted you."

Derek was powerless against the smile that creeped to his lips. "Thank you."

They said nothing further. Both feeling at least remotely more relaxed they focused on their own thoughts, all the stress from the past few days taking its toll on them. On the spur of the moment Derek found one of his arms wrapping almost protectively around Spencer. The genius stiffened but succumbed to his touch after a moment. For the moment all was calm.

Derek had absolutely no idea of what he was doing. It looked like he never had a lot of reason in his head when it came to Spencer. He did know, however, that this was what he wanted to do. Maybe feeling like he was out of his mind wasn't such a bad thing, after all.

Lulled into something like peace by that conclusion Derek drifted into sleep, pretending that he didn't notice how Spencer's head slipped to rest against his shoulder as the younger man went under as well.

Neither of them would ever know that only an inch from sleep Emily cracked one eye open to see them. With a tiny smile on her face she took a more comfortable position and allowed her mind to become foggy.

* * *

><p>Evening had already stretched far and prison guard Rex Anderson, who'd just celebrated his thirty-fourth birthday, was gradually falling asleep on duty when the unmistakable sounds of high heels alerted him. Looking up he found his eyebrow bouncing up while his brown eyes widened ever so slightly.<p>

The very, very young woman approaching him had long, blond hair and the biggest dark brown eyes he'd ever seen. The black shirt and tiny red skirt she was wearing left absolutely nothing to be questioned. His heart raced, then almost exploded when she smiled at him.

"Hi. My name is Jane Smith." He couldn't recognize her accent, which was weird. Usually he was good with accents. "I'm here to see George Foyet."

Rex arched an eyebrow.

_Trust a psychopath to catch the finest girls…_

"I'm afraid he's not allowed visitors yet, sugar", he answered in a sickeningly sweet tone, leaning closer to her. "But is there anything else I can do for you?"

Another smile made his most private parts harden. With a very elegant motion she pulled out a tiny piece of paper and handed it towards him. "Could you give this to him? Maybe it'll cheer him up a little bit."

"Yeah, I'll give this to him", he promised. He glanced towards the surveillance camera, knowing well that he was working against strict protocol. "But you owe me for this, Jane. What are you willing to do to return the favor?"

No good girl could've given him the look she did then, or whispered the words she delivered into his ear that turned beat red. He didn't manage to even flinch before she'd already walked away.

Several moments later he finally remembered the note in his hand. Curiosity taking over he folded it open to see the words.

'_Happy birthday, sweetie._

_Love,_

_Your very own angel_'

He stared at the paper for the longest time. "That's weird", he managed in the end. Weird, but nothing suspicious in his book. He groaned loudly, his private member throbbing with discontentment, and began to make his way towards Foyet's cell.

She'd better fulfill her promise. He wasn't planning on risking his job for nothing.

* * *

><p>In his own, tiny prison cell George Foyet let only his eyes move as the door screeched upon being opened. The guard who entered in looked like the walk to his cell had been the hardest job he'd ever done. "Someone left you a note", the man announced in a audibly annoyed tone, letting a piece of paper fall to the floor like it'd been a piece of trash. "Try not to get yourself killed with or anything, alright? My shift's almost over." With those words the man left.<p>

It wasn't until he could be sure the guard was gone Foyet allowed himself to make his way to the note and give it a look. As soon as he read the words a chilling smirk appeared to his face.

It was time to get out.

* * *

><p>Sometimes Aaron Hotchner had a quite unpleasant ability to sense when something was badly wrong. That morning such a hunch was rising in the back of his head as he entered his office, barely even noticing that the sun hadn't showed up yet.<p>

As soon as he'd taken a seat his cell phone started ringing. He picked up although he was already dreading what he'd hear. "Agent Hotchner."

"_This is chief Reid. I decided to call you as soon as I found out._" William's voice was so tight it almost broke, filled with terror and something beyond. There was a long pause. "_Foyet… He escaped a few hours ago._"

* * *

><p>TBC, no?<p>

* * *

><p>AN: So yeah, okay, we all knew it was coming, but still… (groans) CRAP! We'll see just where things escalate after this one…

**PLEASE**, leave a note! This story just had a near death experience so let it know if you're still feeling love for it, yeah? (gives puppy's eyes) It'd make me insanely happy (figuratively speaking, I hope…).

IN THE NEXT ONE, in case you're still on board: Time has passed but things are far from calm. Reid and Morgan reach their boiling point, which leads to something neither of them expected. Meanwhile, Foyet is creeping towards his goal. But who is the young woman helping him?

Oh yeah, **and since some of you have been asking…** In the next chapter I'm plannin on reuniting Reid with his violin. (grins)

I really, truly hope I'll see ya guys later.

Take care!

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><p><strong>Winter Cicada<strong>: LOL! (howls with laughter) Not quite yet, hun. Dang, I'm excited to me back!

I'm absolutely thrilled to hear you were pleased with the long awaited chapter! (jumps with joy) And, I'm happy to announce that YES, VERY soon we'll see more of Spencer with his violin. I'm been really looking forward to writing such a scene. (smirks)

Massive thank yous for the review! Perhaps we'll be typing again soon…?

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><p><strong>Katsakura<strong>: It means the world to me to hear that, ya know? (grins from ear to ear)

Colossal thank yous for the review! 'Hope the next one won't disappoint.

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><p><strong>Nicolethecrazyone<strong>: Oh no! (winces and hugs) I'm glad to hear I was able to make you feel at least a tiny bit better. Calculus bites. (groans)

Huge thank yous for the review!  
>Until next time!<p> 


	10. Elephant's Memory

A/N: Yup, I'm back already. (grins) My head's officially getting back on track. And it feels good.

BUT, first… Thank you so much for those heartwarming reviews! (HUGS) They seriously mean the world to me, ya know? So thank you! You guys are precious!

Awkay… I suppose it's time to get going, no? (takes a deep breath) I really hope you'll enjoy the ride!

**SONG RECOMMENDATION**: If possible, I'd seriously suggest you guys to listen to 'Autumn's Monologue/The Fiction We Live' from from Autumn to Ashes, or to read the lyrics. That songs fit this chapter AND story so well I felt cold shivers when I realized it. Especially if you think of 'The Fiction We Live' from Morgan's POV and 'Autumn's Monologue' from Reid's.

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><p>Elephant's Memory<p>

* * *

><p><em>Two Months Later<em>

* * *

><p>Lila Archer was perfectly, miserably aware of the fact that her life hadn't gone exactly as she'd always imagined it to be.<p>

The bright lights of Los Angeles hadn't provided any glory for her. She'd acted in a couple of movies practically no one had come to see, then… _nothing_. She'd been cast aside, like a pet that's become more of a inconvenience than a companion. She still remembered what her manager had told her, in the anti-afterglow of the last night she ever let him touch her.

/ _"Some of us just aren't meant to be stars, Lilly. But don't worry. You're a pretty girl. Pretty girls always land on their feet."_ /

Leaving LA had been easy. Figuring out what to do next wasn't. Going back home hadn't sounded like a very appealing idea so she'd chosen the opposite side of the country. The lights of Quantico weren't bright but she'd always been a creature of the night, anyway. Still, as she worked tables in a reeking bar she tried to believe, even after two years proving her wrong, that this wasn't all her life was going to be.

Tonight, at least, she hadn't gone home alone – technically she wasn't even home. When she listened to the man behind her climb out of the bed and head towards the kitchen without a word or touch she didn't mind. Neither of them had bothered to pretend that this would actually go anywhere. In a few moments she stretched and left the bed as well, fighting back a yawn. It was around then she noticed the closed door on the right side of the bedroom.

Since she was a child Lila had been too curious for her own good. Tonight made no exception. Making sure the man was busy making coffee she tiptoed to the door and pushed it open after a second of hesitation. Her eyes flew wide. "Shit!"

It was a tiny, almost closet sized room – and it was completely filled with pictures, articles, reports and notes on a man she immediately recognized as George Foyet. A couple of months ago the serial killer had been all over the news, especially after his daring escape. Now the man was all over this room.

Lila's eyebrow bounced up and she swallowed.

_Obsessed, much?_

Hearing sounds from the kitchen she jumped back slightly, then took a breath and closed the door. She counted to five before she managed to move again. It was time to leave. Her hands shaking slightly she put on her jeans, socks and shoes. After struggling with them for a moment she shoved her bra into her purse and began to button her shirt while leaving the room.

Derek Morgan, or 'FBI' as she'd just called him in the heat of a intense moment, gave her a look as she passed by the kitchen. He frowned. "Are you leaving?" Despite the fact that it was barely three a.m. he was fully dressed and sitting in front of his laptop, looking ready for a day of work.

Lila took a breath, a headache sneaking in. "Look, Derek… Tonight was fun but you don't have to pretend that it actually meant something to you." She zipped her jacket, knowing that it'd be cold outside. "Take care of yourself, okay? Goodnight."

Derek nodded, several emotions dancing in his eyes. Disappointment wasn't one of them. "Goodnight." She wondered if he even remembered her name anymore. Somehow it didn't really matter.

With that Lila left the apartment, rubbing her temple softly with two fingers as she walked down the building's stairs. She had some nice, cool vodka in her refrigerator that might help erase tonight from her memories.

* * *

><p>The following evening had already stretched far as Chopin's Nocturne filled the massive auditorium and every single cell in Spencer's body while he played with firm, fervent motions, eyes closed.<p>

Into that music he drowned the nightmares he'd been having for over two months, the frustration he felt every time Derek came to check up on him, absolutely all the insecurities and uncertanties in his life. At this very moment he knew exactly what he was doing. As long as he played the only thing that existed to him was the music. It was impossible to tell where his soul ended and where the melody began.

His hands grew faster as the music intensified, tingled on his skin. His whole body _burned_ while he unleashed absolutely everything he'd been feeling and bottling up since Foyet, for possibly all his life.

And then the music ended, so unexpectedly that he shivered, feeling cold. In the silence that followed he felt like he'd been falling down, miles and miles towards the distant unknown. The music wasn't there to carry him anymore.

He was so overcome by the storm inside him that he actually jumped upon hearing clapping. Turning his head quickly he felt a shudder when discovering Derek. There was a bizarre look he recognized all too well in the agent's eyes. He'd seen similar when the man showed up to his apartment in Vegas one fateful night well over two months ago.

Despite the mixed feelings swelling inside he smiled. "Hey. I heard you came back from Arkansas." It'd been two months and Derek had come every day if he wasn't on a case. Until the day before, that was. After a phone call from Emily he knew the team had been back for over twenty-eight hours. This particular case must've cut deep. The man before him appeared exhausted.

Derek sighed. "It was a damn long case." The agent then frowned, examining him with a look that made him feel uncomfortable. "You look tired."

Spencer swallowed and looked away, unsure how much he should reveal. They were still on a unsteady ground – all lines between them were blurry. "I've… been having some troubles with sleeping." He shrugged, feeling like a five-year-old. "I know I should feel safe behind five locks, but…" But he still woke up to dreams of Foyet sneaking in, every night.

It was silent for a while until Derek uttered the about last words he'd been expecting. "You could come to my place for tonight, you know?" The agent shrugged, appearing about as shocked by the suggestion as he was. "I mean, at least you'd sleep properly for one night."

For the longest time Spencer could only stare. He knew that he should've said 'no', that he shouldn't have allowed himself to be pulled into this. They both knew perfectly where this was going. But Spencer didn't want to go home. He didn't want to go where he was isolated by a concealed address and a phone number only less than five people had an access to, where five locks kept the outside world at bay. And so he nodded, feeling dangerously lightheaded. "'K", he breathed out. "Just for tonight."

It was pouring rain outside and by the time they made it to Derek's car, panting and trembling, they were soaking wet. Maybe that was why Spencer felt cold and suffocatingly hot at the same time while he sat there, his head spinning from their mixed scents humidity intensified.

Spencer was glad the drive to Derek's apartment didn't take long. He quirked an eyebrow at all the cardboard boxes he faced as they walked in.

"I'm just moving in", Derek explained. "My dog, Clooney, still lives in my old apartment."

Spencer emitted a "Oh", unsure why his throat felt dry all of a sudden. Derek's scent, at least, sure had moved in already.

As though following some sort of a soundless command they walked towards the bedroom, where a bed and several more cardboard boxes had been thrown. Spencer stood in the middle of the room, his heart pounding as he wondered what, exactly, would happen next.

Just then Spencer shivered when Derek brushed a strayed bang of brown hair from his face, suddenly invading his private space without being invited. Their eyes locked and just then the pulsating between them was almost as intense as the one Spencer felt while playing. "We've gotta get out of these wet clothes", Derek pointed out in a dangerous, husky tone, one hand already slipping deviously underneath his shirt. "Before we're both sick."

Spencer felt so dizzy that it was a miracle he managed to stand at all and shivered all over as he lifted his hands, allowing Derek to pull off his shirt. He didn't fight back even when Derek gave his bare shoulder a tiny, unexpected kiss before moving on to peel him from his pants.

He knew better than well that this could be a huge mistake, that this could lead into a disaster. But his body didn't seem to care.

His hands shook slightly while took his turn in undressing Derek. As soon as he was done the larger man grabbed him and Spencer shuddered, suddenly far too aware of his body. Of how much weight he'd lost, since…

"Don't be so shy, Pretty boy", Derek commanded, seeming to startle them both. The man's hands were tender and commanding while investigating his body, eventually pulling him close. "Let me show you how beautiful you are."

Derek ran a hand down his naked back, down his spine, and Spencer shivered with rapidly rising delight. He unleashed a shuddering breath, letting his nails dig their way into the skin of Derek's back. Like having been invited his body arched closer to the other man's. In a flash he came to a realization that Derek was just as excited as he was.

Derek gave his neck a bite that'd definitely leave a mark, and he fought to keep his mind from connecting it to the mark Foyet had left on his shoulder. Fought to keep the nightmares from sneaking in, just this once. Fought to…

"What the hell is it that you do to me?" Derek growled all of a sudden.

Hearing Derek's voice relaxed him, enough so to make it possible to shrug and grin. "It's okay to enjoy this, even if you're not gay."

Derek's eyes narrowed slightly, but it seemed to be more out of frustration than anger. "I don't know what the hell I am anymore."

For a moment or two Spencer could only stare. Coming from Derek, that was a huge confession. Even now he could see sheer terror in the agent's eyes, swimming right there in the middle of everything else. Perhaps he'd be able to chase away some of that fear, although he wasn't entirely sure of the cause. "Shh", he commanded, kissing the dark skinned man's neck gently, affectionally. He'd need to go easy, now. He didn't want to worsen those scars inside Derek he was only just becoming aware of. His hands were gentle as they explored the other man's body, sliding shyly into the most private of places. "We shouldn't think about labels too much." He licked his lips before kissing Derek's bare chest. "You're here. I'm here. We don't need to name it yet."

Derek nodded, relaxing visibly. "Good."

The resolve clearly did a number on Derek's confidence. Spencer gasped when Derek took the lead all of a sudden, pushing him to the bed and placing himself firmly on top of him. The man's eyes appeared several shades darker than usual. "I… want to make this feel good. I need you to tell me if I do something wrong."

Spencer nodded and couldn't resist a smile. Last time they did this it was all new to Derek. Now the man obviously knew very clearly what he wanted. And Spencer was happy to try and provide it.

He didn't resist as Derek kissed him feverishly, then flipped him to the correct position. The demanding kisses continued, but at the same time Derek did something else entirely. Spencer's eyes flew wide and his breath got caught into his throat.

This time Derek remembered to warm him up. Trust a FBI-agent to learn quickly.

Spencer moaned embarrassingly loudly with pleasure when Derek quit the warmup and moved on with his administrations. The moves were heated, rapid and aggressive, and Spencer feared he might go out of his mind completely if he wouldn't be offered a release soon. His fingers tangled with Derek's on the sheets. "Your hips…", he gasped, barely able to breathe. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, his mind overloaded with sensations. He'd _never_ experienced anything like this before. "F-Faster… Please…"

Derek complied with a clearly satisfied growl. In the security of the room's shadows the two of them reached their goal. Their body fluids mixed together as pleasure boiled over and for the first time in his life Spencer became one with another person. It was the most amazing thing he'd ever felt.

In the post orgasm heat he ignored the ache in his body and turned towards Derek to tell the man what he'd just experienced, or to at least say 'thank you'. He came to discover that the agent had already fallen asleep, most likely swept under by the intensity of their encounter. Spencer smiled and snuggled just a little bit closer to the other man's warmth.

As Spencer, too, was overtaken by oblivion he felt safe for the first time in over two months.

* * *

><p>Two hours later Derek's eyes flew open, still wide open to the nightmares that'd just whispered to him, taunting him. And the warm body next to his most definitely didn't belong to Spencer.<p>

He could see the look in those eyes, so clearly that it chilled him to the bone. He could hear the voice as well. It'd never, ever fade from his head. "_Look, Derek, I never hurt you. You could have said no._"

Derek's heart pounded like it'd been about to burst as he looked almost frantically towards still sleeping Spencer, desperately trying to calm his breathing.

Spencer looked so calm, almost happy. So did Carl Buford, every single time. The smell of sex was suffocatingly heavy in the room's air.

Moonlight shone into the room, revealing a couple of blood drops on the white bedsheets. The sight made Derek want to throw up.

There was always blood after Buford's entrance, too. There was no way a child's body could've been ready for such an assault. And suddenly the tiny cry Spencer had given was the only sound he could hear. The sickness from before intensified.

Spencer had given his consent. He had given his consent. Right? He was better Buford. Spencer was better. Had to be.

Invisible hands explored his naked skin, uninvited and unwanted. And he couldn't take it anymore.

Derek jumped out of the bed as quickly as he could without disturbing Spencer's rest, then dashed through the room to the bathroom. As soon as he could he closed the door between them, isolated himself from the room where past crashed right into present.

* * *

><p>A frown appeared to Aaron Hotchner's face when he glanced towards the clock hanging on his office's wall.<p>

"He's late again", David Rossi, who was sipping coffee on the opposite side of his desk, pointed out with a equally worried expression.

The frown on Aaron's face deepened while he sighed, sinking back in his chair. Derek was one of his best agents, despite the traumas the man was still dealing with. But for the past couple of months, since Las Vegas…

They'd need to have a talk.

"What are you going to do?" David inquired.

Aaron shook his head before giving the only honest answer he had. "I have no idea."

They were both so absorbed by their thoughts that they were taken aback when the office's door opened. Penelope Garcia appeared several shades paler than usual as she entered, uncertainty written all over her face. Her hands shook so that she almost dropped the laptop she was carrying. "I know we shouldn't be investigating Foyet anymore, but… Derek asked me to check out something and…" She trailed off, instead placed to laptop to the desk. "Take a look at this. It's surveillance footage from the prison, before Foyet escaped."

At first the most suspicious thing they saw was the nearly dozing off guard. But then the girl appeared. Upon leaving she looked directly at the camera, showing her face.

_Shit…!_, was the only thought that fit into Aaron's head.

"So…", David sighed, running a hand through his hair with a wince. "Who's going to tell Morgan?"

* * *

><p>As soon as Spencer opened his eyes in the morning he had a feeling that something was very, very wrong. And it wasn't just because he quickly discovered that he wasn't in his own bed.<p>

A frown forced its way to his face while he crawled out of the uncomfortably cool bed, without bothering to get dressed making his way towards the sounds he heard from a tiny bathroom on the opposite side of the room. The frown deepened while the sounds became clearer. Water was running. And Derek… was muttering something he couldn't quite make out. The older man's breathing was so loud that he could nearly hear it. Or was it his own?

His chest tightening Spencer knocked on the door. "Derek? Are you okay?"

There was no response and he couldn't help wondering if the agent had even heard him. He called out a couple of more times before worry made him do something he should've never, ever done. He opened the door without a permission, expecting an embrace of warm, humid air he always caused with a long, hot shower. Instead the cold he faced was even more intense than that in the bedroom. It seemed the shower Derek had taken was so cold that the man was still shivering while standing there before a mirror, breathing in a way that couldn't possibly be healthy. The agent was squeezing the sink in front of him so hard it was a miracle there were no fractures. What truly frightened Spencer, though, were the small scratches he could clearly see on the man's mocha shaded skin. It was almost like Derek had been trying to shed his skin or something underneath it.

Spencer's heartbeat shot up and his head buzzed hard enough to make him feel dizzy. "Derek? What's wrong?"

Derek's head turned quickly, sharply as a whip, and he wondered for a brief moment if it was out of startle or something else entirely. The agent's eyes narrowed slightly, in a way that made Spencer wonder if the man was really seeing him standing there. In a way that got him scared.

Spencer swallowed and took a step backwards. "Derek?"

Derek took several breaths before finally speaking through his teeth. "What the hell are you expecting of me? What the fuck do you want me to say?" The man's hands moved almost animatedly and Spencer took another step backwards to make sure they wouldn't come too close. "I… I don't want a… relationship with you, do you understand? I don't want _this_!"

Spencer was sure Derek didn't hit him, but it sure as hell felt like it. Utter coldness took over him completely. "I should go." It was a miracle that his voice sounded almost flat. Maybe he was in a state of shock.

Derek nodded, shaking visibly. "Yeah, you should."

Spencer felt like someone had been smothering him. His heart hammered desperately while his eyes stung.

Leave? Yes. _Hell yes._

He shouldn't have been stupid enough to expect that he might actually be asked to stay. To expect _anything_.

Without saying a word he put on his clothes, feeling Derek's piercing eyes on him and desperately trying not to feel used and rejected. As soon as he could he dashed to the apartment's door and hurried out, all the way into the biting wind outside.

Walking towards home with unsteady feet Spencer was glad the pain somewhere around his chest was so bad that it swept away the one elsewhere, the one that would've made him limp in a way that might've revealed what he'd done the night before.

The only thing that would've made the mistake he'd committed worse was the whole world being able to see it.

In the bathroom Derek kept shaking from the storm ravishing his whole body and soul, feeling so much that it was a miracle he didn't get torn apart physically. And then, with one mighty, swift blow he shattered the mirror before him to hundreds of pieces.

In about ten minutes he finally managed to move. He bandaged his bloodied hand with treacherous calmness, got dressed and forced his mind to shut down almost completely with several deep breaths.

There'd be plenty of time for _thinking_ later. Right now he had twenty minutes of driving's worth time to come up with a decent excuse for why he was two hours late from work. He sure as hell wouldn't be able to figure out an explanation for the unshed tears of grief, rage and frustration in his eyes.

* * *

><p>George Foyet had always been comfortable with waking up early. In his current life it was a necessity if he wanted to avoid any further setbacks. He took a deep breath, inhaling the air of the huge city spreading in front of him.<p>

The desert air smelled like blood. He smiled.

"'Haven't seen one of your smiles in a while", his female companion commented, stretching on her seat. She then groaned while scratching her bright red hair. "I hate dying my hair. It always makes my skin itchy." Her bright green eyes, which were framed with a heavy load of makeup, narrowed. "I'm sure my eyes could do being without these contacts, too. You're lucky I'm so fond of you." She lit a cigarrette and inhaled hungrily, which made her relax almost instantly. Her eyes gained a look that made him feel foreign things only one person had aroused before. "So… It's almost time." She inhaled a couple of more times. "Do you think he's expecting us?"

George tilted his head, looking at the city once more. That was a very interesting question. "He should know to expect us, yes. But who knows." He glanced towards her cigarrette with apparent distaste. "You know that's a nasty habit."

She shrugged, appearing irritated. "You know I do this when I'm anxious."

He just had to smile a little bit. "Patience, Ellie girl. We'll get to work soon."

Beside him Ellie Spicer first glared, then melted into a tiny, wicked grin that became forever imprinted into his mind.

With that the two of them returned to Las Vegas.

* * *

><p>TBC, right?<p>

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><p>NOTE ON ELLIE'S CHARACTER: The story of Ellie Spicer in this story is a little bit different from the canon, which explains why she's older in this. I'm afraid you'll have to stick around to find out. (winces) (I'm nasty, I know.)<p>

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><p>AN: Okay… (takes a deep breath and sighs) Why is it that things always get more complicated with those two when it looks like it's all getting better? (winces) It's a bit weird that I felt a TINY bit choked up while writing this chapter. That _never_ happens.

**PLEASE**, leave a review to let me hear out your thoughts! Heck, yell at me for these frustration setbacks if nothing else. I'd really like to know that ya're out there. (glances hopefully)

IN THE NEXT ONE: There's a lot of mess to be sorted out. Will things ever mend between Morgan and Reid? Meanwhile, Foyet's next move rocks everything upside down.

**WE'RE HALFWAY THROUGH, FOLKS! **I now have a solid plan for the rest of this. The story will almost certainly be twenty chapters long. (What a beast!)

I REALLY hope I'll c ya guys later!

Be good!

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><p><strong>Winter Cicada<strong>: Reid belongs to Virginia, doesn't he? (smirks) Oh, the opportunities…

And Foyet just had to escape… (groans) But I suppose that was fated as well. We'll see where this leads…

I bet you're right, btw. If that girl's Jane Smith I'm the Easter Bunny.

Dialogue and humor, hmm? (grins) We'll see what I can do. You know what I just noticed? Lack of talk is the key problem with Morgan and Reid. Just think how much easier things would be between them if they'd just talk! (groans)

I'm super happy to hear you're enjoying the story, hun! (hugs)

Gigantic thank yous for the review!

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><p><strong>Katsakura<strong>: He's out indeed. (winces)

Let's hope everyone comes out of this mess okay. 'Looks like there's quite a storm rolling in…

Massive thank yous for the review!

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><p><strong>Nicolethecrazyone<strong>: You can't even imagine how much I'm smiling right now! (beams, and HUGS)

As for your request… We'll see what the next chapter brings… (grins)

Colossal thank yous for the review!


	11. Damaged

A/N: Yosh! Another update that didn't take ages. (beams) Hooray?

First things first, of course! THANK YOU, so much, for you absolutely amazing reviews! (glomps) You guys sure know how to keep my inspiration swirling. So thank you! (hugs again)

Awkay… (takes a breath) I suppose it's time to get to the business. I really hope this turns out to be a good ride!

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><p>Damaged<p>

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><p>For all his life Derek had hated being judged or especially questioned. That's why he was shaking with fury as he sat before Erin Strauss with the woman interrogating like he was an UnSub when he should've been…<p>

"Agent Morgan." Erin's eyes were sharp, definitely those of a predator. "Tell me how you knew detective Matt Spicer."

Derek glanced towards a uncomfortably loud clock hanging on the wall. Another minute ticked by. "He was my partner when I was still working in LAPD." He didn't feel like mentioning that he met Matt long before that, in another life. That Matt was the one who coaxed him out of Chicago, away from the shadows of past. "We worked together for years and became friends." Even after a decade the wounds were fresh and tender. But somehow he had a nasty feeling that the worst part was to come.

Erin nodded, making notes, then focused on him again. "How about Ellie Spicer?"

Derek felt like someone had just kicked him. He swallowed and could've sworn there was blood in his mouth. "She's detective Spicer's daughter."

Erin frowned, going through the documents before her. "I assumme you two were close. She was also your goddaughter. Yours and Kristin Spicer's, detective Spicer's sister's. Correct?"

Derek nodded, gritting his teeth. "Yes."

Erin made more notes, then searched through her pile of papers once more. The silence stretched, became heavy. "You were a part of the team that found detective Spicer and Kristin murdered, and Ellie taken." Her eyes seemed to see right into his head. "You were also the one who shot the man responsible, Billy Flynn, to death."

A stab of pain ran through Derek and he shuddered. Even with the help of Jason Gideon's BAU-team, despite all their attempts of reaching out for Billy, they'd been too late.

/ _As clearly as back then Derek saw the blood all over unharmed Billy Flynn's clothes, the wicked smirk on his face, the gleam in his eyes. "Did you really think that I'd fall for your pathetic trap? That I'd let you take her away from me? She'll be with me forever."_ /

Derek's eyes narrowed slightly while his blood pressure rose. "Yes." With all the frustration he'd been forced to pent up lately he wasn't sure how much more of this he'd be able to endure without rupturing physically.

"You believed she'd been killed."

Derek's jaw hurt with how tight it became. "Even though we couldn't find her body we had every reason to assume so, yes."

"Derek." The use of his first name caught him off guard. Erin sighed and leaned forward, taking off her reading glasses. There were no walls between them. "I know Ellie is the reason you joined the FBI. I understand that you care about her a lot. And that's what I'm worried about." She rubbed the bridge of her nose with two fingers. "Now that she's involved this is no longer just a case we helped with for you. When it comes to her I'm not convinced that you'll be able to make rational decisions."

Of course Derek understood her concerns. But nonetheless his blood boiled and his fists balled so tightly it hurt. "Are you seriously saying that I'm not allowed to work on this case anymore?" His voice shook with rage and frustration. Finally, after ten years, he had the chance to find Ellie. He finally had the fucking chance to catch Foyet. And now… "This case requires the entire team's work! You can't…!"

"Yes, I can. But that's not why I'm doing this." She sighed, visibly on the edge of snapping. "This case isn't ours to deal with anymore. Do you understand that, agent Morgan? Your team did everything possible. Now you need to trust other people to take care of the rest."

Derek sent her a flat look, disbelief and overflown fury striking him numb. "If I'm supposed to sit back doing nothing… Then why are you asking me all these questions? Why…?" He trailed off.

He'd never seen the kind of a look on Erin's face before. It was a hurricane warning. "Because in full honesty I'm not sure I can trust you to be professional – to not do more than your job. Because I think you need break."

Derek's facial muscles spasmed and he could feel an explosion coming. "A break?" He didn't need a fucking break. He needed this whole nightmare to be over!

"Your perfomance at work hasn't been as good as it should be for a while now and it's something that raises concerns. That's why you'll be on a paid leave for a month. I've already discussed this with Aaron. I want you to leave your gun to me."

Derek couldn't believe that this was actually happening. So he was pushed away, just like that? "What if I don't approve?"

Erin's expression was nearly pleading. "What exactly do you think you'd accomplish with that?" She leaned closer to him. "This isn't a punishment – this is an opportunity, the best you could get. I'd suggest you take it."

Derek wasn't in the mood for being appreciative. Quickly, gritting his teeth to keep himself from hissing out something that'd get him into a even deeper mess, Derek took his gun and tossed it to the desk. He couldn't resist slamming the door upon leaving.

Derek wasn't surprised to find Aaron in the hallway. In an instant anger flared through, seeping to his tongue. "I just figured out why you've been keeping an eye on me." His tone was openly bitter, almost hostile. "So you actually went and questioned my performance to Strauss."

"You refused all help, Morgan. With the way you've behaved I had no other choice." Aaron's voice was tight, seemed to carry a message he didn't quite catch. He felt uncomfortably lot like he'd been profiled as the man looked at him. "I understand that this is hard for you…"

"No, you don't", Derek snarled. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly while the chill inside him hugged even more tightly. "If you did you would've never done this to me." With those words he stormed out of the building, into a world that was even colder than the one inside him.

The shadows of past were everywhere around him, closing in on him. And there wasn't a fucking thing he could do about them now.

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><p>Spencer discovered that playing a violin and shooting a gun were almost polar opposites.<p>

With his violin all he needed to know were the notes and the most basic functions of his instrument. The rest came from his very soul. He never played with anything less than all of his heart. Never without letting the music take over all of his mind.

But with a gun… Well, before he'd even agreed to take the weapon into his hands he'd studied each and every part of it, just to know what he was dealing with. In the process he got a all too clear picture of how dangerous the piece of metal was. But he wasn't supposed to feel a thing – one musn't fire a gun with emotion. It was all physics and math. Physics and math with which he was preparing himself for killing someone. Ready, aim, press. That's all. No strings attached, even if he saw Foyet's face before his eyes every single time he fired the gun. Or was it George he saw, the man who shared his bed, the man who…?

Spencer really, really hated guns.

He sensed a presence and tensed up until he recognized the scent that lingered around the arrival. He finished off, the turned around to discover Emily standing behind him. One of her eyebrows arched while she took a look at the shots he'd made. "Impressive."

Spencer shrugged, feeling a tiny hint of pride although the metal he was still holding seemed to burn his fingers. "It's not that hard to estimate which angle I have to choose to hit the target – it's basic geometry. In here it isn't even necessary to calculate the effect of wind."

Emily stared at him almost incredulously for a moment, then shook her head and smiled. "C'mon. I'm taking you home."

The drive was silent but Spencer didn't mind. With Emily silences were always comfortable and it felt nice to have at least one person around him with whom he wasn't obligated to talk.

They'd almost made it to his apartment building when she spoke. "I think you should know… Morgan was forced to take a month long leave today."

Spencer blinked once, feeling his facial muscles tighten. "Oh." Why was she telling him this?

Emily was thoughtful for a moment before talking. "Morgan… has some issues he isn't comfortable with sharing. Issues that… complicate certain things in his life." She waited for his reaction and went on upon receiving none. "I'm not going to go into details because it's not my place. He needs to share those things with you at his own pace. But… I just need you to understand that he isn't hurting you out of spite. You'll just need to have a lot of patience with him."

Spencer felt the load of questions on his tongue. They were so sharp that it _burned_. But instead of unleashing them he half-whispered something else. "What if I can't do that?" His eyes narrowed and he rubbed them with one hand. He was so sick and tired of all this. "I can't shoulder both our burden, Emily. It's unfair."

Emily smiled slightly, stopping the car outside his apartment building. "That's not what I'm asking you to do. I just wish you have the heart to give him a one more chance." She then looked at him, appearing slightly worried. "I'll see you tomorrow. Take care of yourself."

Spencer nodded, a smile making its way to his face. "You too. Goodnight."

She gave him a wave. "Goodnight."

Spencer took a good look around him, making sure there were no suspicious shadows lurking on his tails, then walked quickly to the building and entered. His head was a blur as he marched up the stairs, fidgeting at every sound that cut through the absolute silence.

His brain, apparently, chose to go out of control. He honestly couldn't tell who owned the imaginary hands sneaking their way forward on his skin.

/ _"__Don't be so shy, Pretty boy. Let me show you how beautiful you are."_ /

/ _Foyet's lips claimed his as his pleasure reached its peak, effectively swallowing and devouring the cry that crawled through his throat._ /

/ _"What the hell are you expecting of me? What the fuck do you want me to say?"_ /

Finally making it to his apartment's door he opened it and slipped in as quickly as he could, hurriedly securing all five locks. It felt like he'd been locking himself into a dungeon. He closed his eyes when the room spun as claustrophobia began to set in.

Spencer took several deep, wheezing breaths, trying to will his tight chest into loosening, then opened his eyes once more. They shimmered in the room's cold, dead light.

/ _"I don't want _this_!"_ /

/ _Foyet's hands were hard and demanding when the man cornered him against a wall, those hands trapping his wrists. There was something that chilled and allured him in the man's eyes. "I want you, Doc", the man growled into his ear before licking the skin. "And when I want something… I pursue until I get it."_ /

/ _"__I don't know what the hell you're doing to me."_ /

Spencer didn't care if it was much too late for coffee. He needed caffeine to chase away the headache that was crushing his skull.

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><p>Ellie Spicer had always been good at sneaking around unnoticed. She liked to think it was something she inherited from her father for whom such a quality was crucial in the line of duty. She couldn't help wondering what he'd think of her if he'd see her now, if he'd know who'd protected his daughter after he no longer could.<p>

Ellie yawned and stretched, turning her head from side to side. She'd never been a particularly patient person. This hiding around doing basically nothing was driving her insane. That's why she'd decided that she needed some fun.

She heard steps long before the deep, gruff voice of George Foyet spoke. "What the hell do you think you're doing? You know we can't risk using the internet."

Ellie smirked, quickly hiding away all evidence of what she'd been doing. "Relax. I was just fooling around a little bit." She then glanced towards her companion and wrinkled her nose at his disheveled appearance. "This hiding around really doesn't suit you."

George snorted, then turned sharply and began to make his way back to the bedroom. "Make damn sure you leave no traces, then get back to bed. We'll have a busy day ahead of us."

Ellie nodded like a good, obedient girl, then looked towards the computer once more and smirked slightly.

She was sure Derek knew she was alive by now. She would've given a lot if she'd been able to see the look on his face when he'd receive her official 'Hi'.

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><p>Several weeks with barely any sleep do things to people. Spencer felt like he'd been sleepwalking as he made his way through a long, uncomfortably brightly lit hallway. Despite the clothing in between he scratched his arm and frowned.<p>

It was three weeks from when he felt Derek's hands on him. So why couldn't the touch disappear already?

That was when he heard it. A violin, a melody that wasn't as pure as it should've been. That and a tiny, heartbreaking sob.

Unable to stop himself he peered into the auditorium he'd just passed by. In there a girl who couldn't be older than eleven with long, black hair and huge, equally dark eyes was on the verge of tears as she stared at her instrument helplessly.

Spencer had never been fluent with children. That's why he was about to leave until the girl noticed him and looked at him with her eyes full of despair. She chewed her lower lip. "I… heard you here, last week, when I visited daddy." She appeared embarrassed. "I was hoping I'd be as good if I'd play here."

Not quite sure how to feel Spencer approached slowly. "Can I try your violin?"

The girl nodded eagerly, handing the instrument. As soon as he caught a hold of it Spencer noticed how heavy it was, paid attention to the delicate strings. Expensive, and much too demanding for a child.

Spencer took a deep breath, then played a couple of notes. That was all it took. The music sneaked right under his skin, caught a hold of him before he could do a thing to stop it. Two notes turned into ten and soon music filled the entire auditorium, echoed in the walls like a howl.

Spencer had made it about halfway through when he felt the eyes. His eyes opened halfway, shifted towards the furthest seats of the auditorium. His teeth gritted together.

This girl wasn't the only one who knew he came here to practice. Derek showed up almost every day, most likely imagining that he was too worked up to notice. Sometimes he preferred thinking he was imagining things because whenever the music faded away the agent was already gone. But today he was done pretending.

The melody changed, deepened, gained a much angrier sidetone. He'd never been a overly verbal person when it came to expressing his emotions. This was the best way he found to show just how deep the cut went.

The music flowed on, like the hiss of a angered poisonous snake, unleashing all the venom that'd been circling inside him. He played until his fingers and wrist hurt, until he was sure he wouldn't be able to hold back the tears any longer. Fire flared under his skin and he wanted to scream out loud but decided to let the music do all the talking instead.

And then it was all over. On the outside, at very least.

The music's echo died out. It became very, very quiet. The only sound he could hear was the beat of his heart and the rush of his blood. Everything inside him was screaming.

The girl stared at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. "Wow."

Spencer swallowed. As he handed back the violin his hands trembled so badly that it was a miracle he didn't drop the instrument. It took his all not to glance towards Derek. "The violin… It's alright. You'll just need to tighten the strings. And keep practicing. One day you may be better than me."

The girl beamed up at him. "Thank you."

Spencer did his best to offer a smile in return, then turned and walked away as fast as he possibly could. Walked away from the eyes burning holes to his back.

Derek felt like he'd been torn to shreds as the music kept reiterating in the back of his head.

He'd never, _ever_ meant to cause such pain. Spencer had to know that, right? Spencer had to understand that…

He'd already pushed himself up and taken one step to follow the genius until his cell phone started to ring. Fighting the urge to curse loudly he picked up. "What?"

"_It's me._" At first he wanted to hang up but something in Aaron's voice convinced him otherwise. "_I know you're still on leave but something important came up._"

Derek shuddered, feeling lightheaded. Spencer was already long gone. "I'll be right over." So saying he hung up and instead of following the brunet went the opposite way although everything inside him screamed against it.

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><p>Although she was a bit of a nerd Emily Prentiss detested computers. They never worked too well with her.<p>

That particular day her left eyebrow began to twitch when a yet another of Penelope Garcia's attempts of opening a e-mail's file from Ellie Spicer led nowhere. The computer genius shook her head, appearing desperate. "I'm sorry, but… It's so well encrypted that I can't make any sense to it. I have no idea how to open it."

"How about the password?" David inquired, his voice tighter than usual.

Penelope shook her head. "One more wrong suggestion and the entire file will self destruct. I already got a warning."

"Can I try?" Derek's voice startled them all. Turning their heads they saw the man standing by the room's doorway, a determined look on his face.

There was obvious tension in the air while Aaron nodded, giving the younger man a clear route to the computer. There were things that would have to be talked through but the time for that was later. Once in front of the computer Derek typed and pressed enter. In an instant they were granted an access.

Emily blinked. "What was the password?"

Derek's jaw tightened to what looked like a painful extend. "It was her dad's badge number. She wanted me to be the one who opens this."

The screen was black. They all leaned forward with frowns on their faces. Was someone playing a stupid joke on them?

And then Ellie appeared. Ellie, completely naked and a bizarre, calm look on her face.

In an instant Emily saw the deep, long scars all over the girl's pale skin. It was easy to see that the young woman had gone through a hell. Emily couldn't even imagine how much it hurt Derek to see the marks.

"_Hey uncle Derek. I know I shouldn't have done this but I wanted to leave you a message. I wanted you to see what happened to the little girl you once knew._" Ellie put on a shirt, then went on. The look in her eyes changed to something a lot more dangerous. "_You weren't supposed to abandon me, ever. You swore to my father that you'd always protect me like I was your own daughter. But you betrayed us both – you gave up on me. Now I'm going to make you pay for breaking all your promises._" So saying she switched off the camera. The screen was black once more.

It was completely, absolutely silent. The just about only movement in the entire room came from Derek's chest that moved harshly with his laboured breathing. There was a absolutely torn look on his face and he squeezed the desk before him so hard that his hands shook. Anyone could tell that he was only an inch from breaking down.

"Derek…", JJ started but was cut off by a firm shake of head.

"Just leave." It was a hiss yet held no fire in it. Derek's eyes shimmered for a moment. "Just… Just leave me alone, for a while."

The team was reluctant but they knew that there was nothing they could do for him now.

While everyone else left Emily and Derek remained. She gave him a look. "We haven't lost her yet, you know?"

Derek nodded slowly, unable to look away from the screen. "Yeah. I know. I just… wish there was something I could do for her."

"There'll be time for that later. But right now…" Emily paused for a second, wondering if she was saying the right thing. "Right now, there's someone else with whom you could reconcile. Someone who needs you to be there for him."

Derek's eyes narrowed. "I don't want to talk about it, Prentiss."

She shrugged, preparing to leave. "You shouldn't be talking about it with me, anyway. But you really should have a chat with him." She began to walk away. "If you ever want something from him you have to give something in return." With that she was gone, leaving Derek to his thoughts.

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><p>It took almost a week before Derek managed to not only gather himself for following Emily's advice but to find the opportunity to do as she'd told.<p>

It was already two in the morning and he'd been driving around for so long that he was almost out of gass when something caught his attention through the pouring, blinding rain.

A man was standing there on the sidewalk, arms folded to a chest in a desperate attempt to chase away the cold. The man was so drenched that it took long before Derek recognized him as Spencer Reid.

Derek felt his heart stop for a second.

Spencer hadn't seen his car yet – it would've been so very easy to drive away and pretend that he wasn't even there. Instead he stopped the car and pushed the passenger's door open. "You look like you could use a ride." His first instinct was to ask what the hell Spencer was doing there at such hour, if the man was alright, but he chose against it. If he wanted even the slightest chance of making things right he'd have to approach with caution.

Although Spencer didn't seem to be drunk it took a couple of second's before the man's bleary eyes recognized him. When they did the brunet fell even paler than before. For a while it looked like the man would run away.

"C'mon." Derek hoped he didn't sound as desperate as he feared. He felt choked up although he couldn't tell why. "Believe it or not this is most likely the best offer you'll get tonight."

Spencer hesitated for a couple of more seconds before finally sliding cautiously to the passenger's seat, staying as far from him as possible. The silence between them was stiff, harder than any stone. As he led the car back to the road Derek couldn't help wondering if he was too late, after all.

In the end the icy silence got too much for Derek. When the car stopped to a red light he took a deep breath, then squeezed out the words. "I didn't say those things because I wouldn't care about you, Spencer." The light turned green but he didn't press gas pedal. At such hour there was no one who would've minded. He swallowed although his throat felt uncomfortably dry. "I said those things because I'm starting to care too much."

It was suffocatingly quiet once more, apart from Spencer's unnaturally loud breathing. Rain made it impossible to see if the traffic light was red once more.

Derek rubbed his face with both hands, wanted to pull his hair. What the hell was he supposed to do? "I'm trying to stop fucking things up but I don't know how, okay? I don't have a clue what the hell I'm supposed to do next."

The light turned green. "I don't know a thing about you, you know?"

Derek blinked twice, looking towards the younger man. "Huh?" This was _not_ one of those directions he'd expected this conversation to take.

Spencer glanced towards him, then went on as though not having even heard him. "You don't know everything about me, either. But… I'd like to get to know you", the brunet said quietly, staring into space for a moment before focusing on him once more. The genius' eyes appeared a lot older than before. "I believe in second chances. Just…" The man fidgeted. "Don't ever push me away like that, got that? Never make me feel that used again." Spencer looked so terrified, so throughoutly petrified, that it broke Derek's heart. But the brunet didn't make a move to leave. Spencer cared about him so much that the man was willing to sit still and face the storm. Spencer considered him worth it.

For the longest time Derek could only stare.

The few people he'd told about his past experiences had told him it wasn't his fault. But at that very moment all those words, the absolution, materialized in the form of Spencer.

Derek didn't fall apart but some cracks appeared to the armor he'd built around himself. Cracks that let a part of the acid that'd been running through him for such a long time pour out. It felt so good that it was almost terrifying.

Derek had absolutely no idea where the two of them were headed and it scared him out of his mind. But the fear was nothing compared to that he felt upon realizing what he'd have to say next. "There's… something I need to tell you. It's no excuse for anything, but... I want you to know." He refused to look towards Spencer, instead gulped thickly and licked his lips. His body was trembling while his heart hammered. "There's… When I was a child I knew this man, Carl Buford…"

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><p>William Reid was perfectly aware of the risks of being predictable. But nonetheless he had certain routines. Ironically, that particular day he didn't follow them.<p>

Instead of being at work until the night was already upon him William was taken down by a headache at seven thirty p.m. Grateful that there was still a pharmacy open he stopped by, purchased a huge amount of Aspirin and drove home. He knew there was something wrong the second he opened the door.

Most days his cat Daisy, a twelve-year-old, one-eyed old lady most probably considered hideous, was far too lazy to even crack her soul eye open when he came home. Today she ran almost right at him, mewing loudly.

William frowned, scratching the feline's head. She refused to calm down. "Hey, princess. What's going on? Are you hungry?" Unfortunately the cold shivers going all the way through him proved otherwise.

The headache, however, swept over caution. Deciding that he needed immediate relief or he'd lose his mind William made his way to the kitchen, ignoring Daisy's distraught noises. He'd managed to swallow down one pill and some water until he heard the steps.

The hair in the back of his neck rose and he _knew_.

"You should've made a deal, William."

A gunshot echoed through the apartment like a loud, vicious snarl of rage.

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><p>TBC, right?<p>

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><p>AN: Uh huh… 'Looks like a storm is upon us. (shudders)

**PLEASE,** leave a note! Let me hear ya out! It'd seriously make my day. (gives puppy's eyes) Easter's just around the corner. I may have some chocolate eggs to sweeten the deal…

IN THE NEXT ONE: Things have turned upside down once more and Foyet is more dangerous than ever. How will the new twists affect the budding bond between Reid and Morgan? Emotions run high on every side.

Until next time, folks! I hope ya'll stay tuned for that one.

Peace out!

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><p><strong>Nicolethecrazyone<strong>: Awww! (grins from ear to ear) I'm almost blushing here.

Poor boys, no? (winces) Let's hope Morgan manages to make things right before it's too late.

Gigantic thank yous for the review!

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><p><strong>Winter Cicada<strong>: He does, doesn't he? At the moment he's hurting two people. (groans)

The joys of fanfiction, no? (chuckles)

And now Ellie's in. (quirks an eyebrow) We'll see how that twist affects things…

Huge thank yous for the review! I'm really glad to hear you found the song fitting, too. (beams)


	12. Unfinished Business

A/N: See, see? Another relatively fast update. Spring's here and apparently the amount of sunlight is doing miracles to my inspiration. (beams) Hooray?

First off, though… THANK YOU, so much, for those absolutely amazing reviews! You can't even imagine how good it feels to know so many of you are out there, waiting for an update. (GLOMPS) Thank you!

Awkay… Before I get all sappy or change my mind, let's rock. I truly hope you'll enjoy the chapter!

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><p>Unfinished Business<p>

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><p>Spencer hadn't dreamt of his father since he was a child. Back then those dreams were mostly nightmares of the man leaving, of all those fights his father had with his mother. Today it was a surprise that as the early hours of morning dawned it was William Reid's face he saw while his mind still slumbered.<p>

Rain was falling heavily while they stood in a cemetery, both dressed in black and staring at a tombstone that had no name on it.

Spencer had absolutely no idea how long they'd been there when his father suddenly looked at him. He could've sworn he saw tears in the man's eyes. The air smelled like salt as William swallowed. "_I'm sorry._"

At first Spencer couldn't understand but then felt something he couldn't quite explain. He looked down with a frown and felt colder than should've been humanly possible.

His hands… They were disappearing.

And then he woke up, bolting to a sitting position and gasping so loudly that a scream almost broke through. It took almost three full minutes before he was coherent enough to realize that he was in his own bed – but not alone.

Looking to side with steadily widening eyes he felt a shudder upon discovering Derek. The older man was sleeping with his face towards him, fully dressed and looking more serene than he'd ever seen the agent.

The night before, the things Derek had revealed during the quiet, dark hours… Was it just a dream? A hallucination? Spencer wasn't sure if he wanted to find out.

A sudden groan startled him to the realization that this might all be real, after all. Derek's nose wrinkled slightly before the man's eyes opened halfway. At first they carried confusion until reality began to set in. Until memories clicked into place. Derek swallowed loudly, his Adam's apple jumping nervously.

In the end it was Spencer who had to say the first words. His hand twitched with desire but he kept it still, not wanting to break the moment. "Thank you", he whispered simply. Those words weren't even the start of what he wanted to say but he hoped Derek managed to hear the rest, anyway.

Derek nodded. The man's eyes held a hint of fear and uncertainty but also a massive amount of sheer relief. Such relief Spencer had never, ever seen before. Relief that radiated what was bubbling inside Spencer.

Finally daring to he reached out his hand and took Derek's. The agent returned his hold immediately.

It was amusing, really, that even with their clothes on they'd never been so throughoutly naked before each other.

In a few moments Spencer's loud, wide yawn broke the tender moment.

Derek chuckled. "Yeah, very nice to know that I've been awake for less than five minutes and I'm already boring you. Really flattering." The mocha skinned man then wrinkled his nose for the second time that morning. "You need a shower. And a toothbrush."

Spencer snorted and tried to appear insulted but failed. "Like you'd smell of roses." His chest tightened considerably and his stomach dropped when Derek began to crawl out of the bed. Flashbacks of their past two nights together rushed through his head. He licked his lips, sitting up faster than would've been wise. "You're… not leaving, are you?"

Derek glanced towards him. In a moment the man seemed to understand. "I'm not leaving, Spencer." It was said with such sincerity and devotion that it silenced the demons whispering in the back of Spencer's head. The agent ruffled his hair and kissed his forehead, which seemed to surprise them both. "You go and take a shower. I'll see if I you have anything that could be used as a breakfast."

Spencer blinked twice, surprised. "I… never eat breakfast. All I need is coffee."

Derek's look revealed that the man didn't like his comment. The agent sighed, rolling his eyes. "No wonder you're so skinny." The man's eyes left no room for arguments. "Now, off to the shower. Or do I have to carry you?"

The offer was oddly tempting but Spencer chose to comply instead. He could've sworn he felt Derek pinch his ass while they left the room.

As he closed the bathroom's door and took off his clothes Spencer heard the sounds of Derek in the kitchen – clattering, muttering and some cursing. It felt so good and right that he smiled while warm water wrapped around him like a security blanket.

When Spencer walked out of the shower, still toweling his wet hair, he just had to smile at the sight that greeted him.

Derek seemed very much at home while preparing what looked suspiciously lot like a ham omelette. It appeared there was also some toast incoming. Coffee maker purred in a far corner of the room.

Unfortunately the moment was interrupted by Derek hissing loudly. Spencer felt a jolt inside upon noticing some drops of blood fall while the agent caught a firm hold of his finger. "Stupid knife…", the older man muttered.

Dropping his towel Spencer reached out towards the nearest cabinet, took a box of bandaids and made his way to Derek. "Let me see", he murmured, gently prying the injured finger from the agent's hold. The wound wasn't as deep as he'd first feared. Relieved, he put some cool water running and guided the finger beneath it. He gave Derek a admonishing look when the man hissed and tried to pull away. "It needs to be cleaned up before I can put on the bandaid. So hold still." Finishing up he took a look around. "This… looks really nice."

Clearly forgetting the pain in his finger Derek smiled, looking directly at him. "Yeah. It does."

Spencer blushed and cleared his throat, feeling his heartbeat change slightly. He wasn't exactly used to stuff like this.

His discomfort made Derek chuckle slightly. The man put a strayed strand of his brown hair back into place with a gentle hand. "C'mon, Pretty Boy. Let's dig in before everything's cold."

The breakfast was finished and consumed in a comfortable silence.

Later, after ushering Derek to brush his teeth and taking care of the dishes, Spencer found Derek examing his collection of books with his eyes. Surprisingly he didn't feel angered by someone invading his private space. Instead he walked closer, unsure of what he was supposed to say. "I've… loved books since I was little." His voice was quiet but calm. "Those were the only things I took with me from Vegas."

Derek gave him a look. "That's quite a collection."

Spencer shrugged, focusing firmly on the books. "It's not that much, really, only ninety-seven. I've read most of them several times. It only takes me less than ten minutes to finish one, so…" He cleared his throat, feeling embarrassed all of a sudden. "They're precious to me."

Derek chuckled once again and shook his head. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised by anything with you." In a while the man focused on the books once more. "Which piece is your favorite?"

"'The Parliament of Fowls', from Geoffrey Chaucer", he replied without a hint of hesitation. The words came to his mind without being invited. "'_Of_ _instruments of strings in accord, Heard I so play a ravishing sweetness, That God, that maker is of all and lord, Had heard never better, as I guess. Therewith a wind, scarcely it might be less, Made in the leaves green a noise soft Accordant to the fowls' song aloft._'"

Something changed in the room's air, in the energy flowing between the two of them. Suddenly absolutely nothing else existed. Derek took the two steps separating them, touched his face in a way he'd never been touched before and leaned closer, closer…

And then the doorbell rang.

They jumped apart like two children spotted with their hands in a cookie jar, blushing and panting. Spencer counted to three and licked his lips before daring to try his voice. "I'll… go and open."

Derek followed silently as he went. If they'd been blushing before it was nothing compared to what overcame them when they found Aaron Hotchner standing behind the door.

The unit chief gave them a long, suspicious look, his gaze traveling from Derek to Spencer and back again.

"Morgan, he…" Spencer cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. "He gave me a ride home."

Aaron nodded slowly. The eyes looking at Derek clearly said 'We'll talk about this later'. "I see." The man then focused on Spencer. "There's… something important I need to tell you. Can I come in?"

Suddenly, looking at Aaron's eyes, Spencer felt very, very cold. He moved to side automatically, letting the unit chief in. His blood began to rush. "Sure", he half squeaked, then led them to his living room. He sat down before daring to voice the questions screaming in his head. "What's wrong? Is it about Foyet?"

There was a beat of hesitation. "I asked to get to deliver the news myself." The look on Aaron's face was a immediate warning. The man swallowed before finally letting the words fall. "Foyet… It seems he got a hold of your father."

For a moment, two, three Spencer simply stared, his whole body completely numb. "What?" he breathed out in the end.

Aaron looked at him exactly the way people in his profession look at the family members of victims. There was a torturous pause. "Neighbors called in a complaint of noise and also reported that there was a gunshot. Upon investigation a bullet hole was discovered on the wall, along with clear signs of struggle. There was also some blood on the floor."

Spencer felt his body shaking, felt his blood pressure going out of control. But other than that there was still _nothing_. Nothing but a cold, black hole. He was becoming dangerously lightheaded. "What about my father? Is he alright?"

Aaron looked at him directly into his eyes, obviously wondering if he was ready to hear this. "He was stabbed nine times and he lost a lot of blood. His condition is serious but he's expected to survive if there are no further complications." The man's eyes swept briefly towards Derek. "He was left into the hospital by someone who had Derek Morgan's credentials."

It took a moment before Derek registered what'd been said. "Son of a bitch…!" the agent hissed in the end.

Spencer barely heard, didn't really understand any of the things going on around him. Feeling dizzy and detached he pushed himself up although his feet barely supported his weight. "I've gotta go there", he muttered, mostly to himself. "I've gotta make sure…"

The hand on his shoulder scared him and he almost reacted violently until he saw Derek's face, the sadness in the man's eyes. "Spencer, you can't. I'm sorry, but… You can't."

A flare of rage and despair shot through Spencer. His eyes were getting blurry. "What do you mean I can't? He's…" He fumbled for words. "He's in a hospital, Derek! What if…?" He just couldn't speak out the rest.

"I know you would want to go and make sure he's alright. We both understand that." Aaron's voice was cool and calm, professional. "But that's exactly what Foyet wants. If you'd go there you'd walk right into his trap. And I'm sure your father wouldn't want that."

Spencer couldn't speak. Instead he slumped back to the couch and buried his face into his hands, feeling absolutely trapped. Suddenly the mark Foyet had left on his shoulder seemed to burn a hole right through, all the way to the bone.

And despite all the locks on his door, despite the fact that there were two federal agents with him, despite Derek's protective hand on his shoulder, he felt more unsafe than ever in his life.

* * *

><p>William Reid wasn't expected to be conscious for days after such an attack. He wouldn't have any of that. No matter how bad of a condition he was in her knew that his son needed him.<p>

Diana always said 'A mother knows'. A father knows, too. Even a bad one.

So, less than two days after the attack William was wide awake and anxious to leave the hospital when one of his officers – a man in his mid-twenties with shortcut reddish hair and scared brown eyes named Owen Denson – walked into the room. The younger man cleared his throat, obviously wondering how to set his words. "The nurse… said it's okay to come in."

William forced himself into a sitting position although the pain it caused made black spots dance in his line of vision. He braced himself, a part of him knowing already. "What is it?"

Owen swallowed, fidgeting. "We searched through your apartment, and… Well, you know Foyet always takes something from his…" He was glad the younger man didn't voice word 'victim' in his presence. There was a pause. "He took a page from your address book."

At that moment there was no pain in William's body. Only terror. "Which page?" He didn't care if he was screaming.

Owen seemed reluctant but answered in the end, appearing scared. "The one with Spencer's new address."

William's heart _stopped_. Emotions struck his mind and body numb. Then a flash of clarity struck him like Foyet had been stabbing him all over again. He looked at Owen, his eyes and whole body _burning_. "I need to call the BAU team. _Now_."

Owen frowned. "Chief, this is a hospital. You can't…"

"Then get me somewhere where I can!" he snarled, disregarding the fact that he was venting his rage on someone who didn't even deserve it. He'd apologize later. "I need to warn them before that bastard gets to my son!"

In the end Owen seemed to understand what was best for his very health and took William outside in a wheelchair, slipping him a cell phone. William was glad they managed to avoid doctors and nurses. He couldn't waste a second.

As soon as Owen had left him alone William dialed the numbers he knew by hard. It wasn't once or twice he'd called Aaron to check up on Spencer. As always the answer was almost instant. "_Agent Hotchner._"

William took a breath, fighting a wave of pain and wishing he'd wake up from this nightmare already. "It's chief Reid. Is the team with you?"

"_Yes._" He could hear the man's confusion. "_Are you alright? Dr. Hahn said…_"

"I'm sorry, but… This is urgent", he cut off, his tone carrying loudly evident urgency. He licked his lips. "Could you… put me on speaker, please?"

"_Of course._" The man went on in a second. "_You've got us all on the line now. What's wrong?_"

William's whole body was shaking so badly that he almost dropped the phone. "Foyet… When he attacked me he stole a page from my address book. The one that has Spencer's address in Quantico."

There was a moment of heavy silence. He heard someone cursing and a loud bang before Aaron finally spoke. "_He's coming after Spencer._"

"I'm sure of that." William had never, ever been so scared and furious in his life. If he could've he would've ran away from the hospital and… He gulped, wiping his eyes. "Please, you… Promise you'll make sure my son is safe. Don't let that asshole get to him again."

"_JJ is already working on the arrangements. A U.S. Marshal will take Spencer to Wittness Protection as fast as possible and make sure no one knows where he is. He'll be safe._"

William wiped his eyes again, a bit more forcefully this time. As relieved as he was this… This felt _wrong_. It was wrong that his son had to hide and fear for his life. It was unfair that Spencer had to be ripped away from everything. "Good", he choked out. He had to compose himself for a moment. "You… You can put me off the speaker, now."

Aaron seemed to get the hint. Three seconds passed before he heard the man's voice. "_What is it?_"

Hard as William swallowed the lump in his throat didn't disappear. His breathing became louder. "Spencer… Wherever he's taken, make damn sure he knows I love him. And I'm sorry."

"_I'll make sure he knows that._" The unit chief went on in a second. "_But I assume that wasn't the only thing you wanted to say._"

He nodded although it couldn't be seen and composed himself. "It wasn't. Because… Because there's something else. Something I didn't really want agent Morgan to find out, considering his connection to the case." The memory was sharper than any of the stabs he'd received.

* * *

><p> _One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven._

_William had no clue how he managed to count the stabs. Perhaps shock was making his body shut down. But all of a sudden it was over._

_"Shh, William. Just relax. Breathe through it." He saw Foyet through a layer of fog as the man smiled at him, then turned his attention on someone else. "Do you feel ready for your first?"_

_It wasn't until he heard the steps and the female voice William realized that there was another person in the room. "Yes." And then she was kneeling above him, her eyes reflecting absolutely everything inside her although her face remained expressionless. Despite the condition William was in he recognized the girl immediately._

_As soon as it'd been confirmed that Ellie Spicer was involved he was faxed a picture of her. She looked even younger, even more fragile, in nature._

_Fragile until the moment she took the bloodied knife Foyet gave her and looked at William directly into eyes._

_William swallowed, terror swimming through the confusion filling his entire head. "Please…" His voice was wet, quiet and hollow – dead. "Don't…"_

_Ellie lifted a finger to her lips. "Shh…" She caressed his cheek, never once looking away from his eyes. "It'll be okay, I promise you."_

_And then she plunged the knife into him, twice. Since then he knew nothing. _/

* * *

><p>There was a long, hard silence until Aaron groaned.<p>

William went on although he hated himself for it. "I know how important that girl is to agent Morgan, but…" He winced at the pain pulsating everywhere, making a mental note to sweet talk a nurse into giving him some more medication. "You haven't seen her eyes, not really. When you find her you have to remember that she's grown up with Foyet. She'd rather die than let you hurt him. You need to prepare for the possibility that she's beyond salvation. "

* * *

><p>Outside the conference room Derek stood absolutely still, desperately trying to catch his breath. Trying to understand that this was all really happening.<p>

Spencer… They'd take him away. And there was nothing he could do about it.

Some first day of work after his forced leave.

He jumped upon feeling a hand on his shoulder. Glancing backwards he discovered JJ, who was looking at him with sad eyes. "I'm sorry", she whispered.

Derek shrugged off her hand and made sure no one would hear before speaking. "It's okay." He didn't manage to convince either one of them. "He'll be safe. So it's okay."

JJ sighed, giving his shoulder a one more brief squeeze before turning away. "In case you want to know… Emily and David are on their way to Spencer's apartment to make sure he's safe. A marshal called Liam Doneghy will come and pick him up in an hour and a half." With those words she disappeared, leaving him standing there torn in two.

* * *

><p>Spencer had his eyes closed as he let the painfully loud, almost aggressive violin music from is iPod dull his senses.<p>

(He didn't hear the doorbell.)

He'd just called his father's doctor to discover that the man had been well enough to escape from his room. That information should've calmed him. So why was he still so restless and tense?

His fingers twitched greedily towards his cell phone, desiring to dial Derek's number, but he refused the relief.

Derek and he were only just trying to work things out between them. He couldn't call the agent every time he was feeling anxious, every time he felt like Foyet had been there with him, watching him.

(He was too preoccupied to hear the door being forced open.)

Spencer sighed, trying to relax on the couch. The music boomed, reaching its climax.

(He couldn't be aware of the steps.)

And then he wasn't quite alone anymore.

His heart skipped several beats while his eyes flew open to discover Emily Prentiss. His mouth opened but his throat was so blocked that he couldn't produce a sound. Or perhaps he just didn't hear it from the music.

Emily's lips were moving, her hands were shown so he could see that she didn't mean harm. It wasn't until then he took off the ear buds. "… okay, Spencer. It's okay."

"What's going on?" he finally managed, his voice shaking and his heart far from calm.

David Rossi stepped in. There was a nearly grave look on the man's face. "Foyet… He knows exactly where you are. I'm sorry, but… You have to pack as fast as possible."

* * *

><p>Derek had absolutely no idea what things Spencer did to his heart and soul. But like a moth drawn to a flame he found himself sitting in his car outside Spencer's block of flats, watching how a wary looking man of his age with black hair and impossibly sharp blue eyes escorted the petrified looking genius out of the building.<p>

Less than a minute and it'd be all over. Spencer would be gone from his life, possibly for good. Less than a minute and…

Derek climbed out of the vehicle and began to approach, feeling like he'd been sleepwalking. "Marshal Doneghy?"

The said man immediately gave him a look of mistrust, positioning himself between him and Spencer. "Who would you be?"

Derek pulled out his badge. "SSA Derek Morgan." He took a breath, futilely trying to sort out his whirring thoughts. "Could you… give Spencer and me a moment alone?"

Marshal Doneghy didn't appear pleased but nodded eventually, taking two steps backwards. It didn't provide much privacy but at least the man wasn't standing directly between them anymore. Face to face with Spencer, Derek had no clue what to say.

Spencer stared at him with a somewhat bewildered look in his eyes. "What… are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at work?"

Derek shrugged, frowning. Did Spencer really think he wouldn't come? "I couldn't let you leave without coming to see you."

Spencer blinked. He might've caught a brief glimpse of rosy hue on those pale cheeks. "Oh." The genius gulped and it was easy to see his thoughts spinning. "Derek, could you… promise me something?"

Derek nodded, surprised. "Of course."

Their eyes collided and held, which made Spencer's words sink even deeper. "Promise me that whatever happens you won't let Foyet consume you in whole. That you won't let him get under your skin. Because… Because you've already got too many monsters there."

Derek felt a flare inside him. His eyes stung and it took his all to keep it all from showing. "I will catch him. I won't give up, Spencer", he promised in a voice only the younger man could hear. "I swear I won't." Not before Foyet had been found. Not before Spencer was able to come back. Not before…

Spencer nodded. Was the man trembling or was he imagining things? "I know." He wished the genius would've promised not to give up, either, but the words never came.

It was silly, really, to be so emotional. They barely knew each other yet. But during the time since they met they'd been through more drama and turmoil than most couples do during the entire relationship.

Derek _needed_ a proof that their time wasn't up yet, needed the reassurance. He needed to _feel_ Spencer for one last time before the brunet would be taken away and he didn't care if the marshal saw it. He didn't care if the whole fucking world did.

This kiss was very different from the ones they'd shared before. This was two incredibly guarded souls finally letting each other just a little bit closer. This was a taste of something that may never, ever be.

It tasted a little bit too much like goodbye.

Derek cleared his throat and licked his lips as they broke apart, feeling embarrassed and so many other things that it was impossible to name them. "I… hope I'll see you again soon. Take care of yourself."

Spencer nodded, visibly fumbling for words that refused to come. The brunet merely nodded instead. "You too." Their hands brushed together but refused to hold while the younger man turned, then disappeared into the car. The vehicle's slightly darkened windows were like a brick of walls between them.

It was too late to say or do anything.

"Agent Morgan." There was a look in marshal Doneghy's eyes that revealed the man knew far too much. "I'll protect him with all I have. I promise."

Derek nodded, still feeling oddly numb. "Good", was all that came out.

As he watched the car distance and disappear with violin music echoing in his head Derek could only hope and pray that it wasn't all over just yet. Because he'd never, ever needed just a little bit more time as badly.

* * *

><p>TBC, RIGHT?<p>

* * *

><p>AN: Oh boy… Foyet's getting in the way again. (groans) We'll see just what this means for the couple…

On a positive note, I've already written a raw version of half of the next chapter so it MAY come out pretty quickly.

**PLEASE,** leave a note – let me know your thoughts! It'd seriously mean the world to me. (gives puppy's eyes)

IN THE NEXT ONE: Both Reid and Morgan feel there's something missing when they're forced to be apart. The loop around Foyet tightens – but the man might be closer than anyone ever feared… The story continues in 'Safe Haven'.

Until next time! I really hope I'll see ya all then.

Take care!

* * *

><p><strong>Nicolethecrazyone<strong>: Man, does hearing that make me happy. (beams) Especially the fact that you liked that particular scene. It was my favorite piece, too.

Huge thank yous for the review! 'Hope the next one keeps you as hooked.

* * *

><p><strong>Winter Cicada<strong>: It's a HUGE compliment to me that you thought the characters were… well, IC. That's something I always aim for. (sighs happily) 'Couldn't resist making him good with the gun. For some reason the thought's been bugging me for ages. (chuckles) (Whoever said that groin hit was a miss?) (grins)

There's quite a turmoil going on, no? (shudders) We'll see just what happens with Foyet and Ellie. As for Spencer and Derek… Let's hope the two of them get the chance to create something remarkable between them. They'd deserve to be happy for change.

I hope Daisy's okay, too. I adore cats.

Colossal thank yous for the review!

* * *

><p><strong>Katsakura<strong>: There's quite a bit of things to be nervous about, no? (sweatdrops) Let's hope things worked out, no matter how bad they look at the moment. We'll see what happens between our lovely couple next…

Massive thank yous for the review!

* * *

><p><strong>Reidland<strong>: So much stuff going on, no? (grits teeth) With all the drama and threat around them, we'll see what happens to the relationship between those two. Let's hope they get the chance to grow closer before it's too late.

And let's hope William's okay! The hit of losing him would be too much for Spencer. (winces)

Gigantic thank yous for the review!


	13. Safe Haven

A/N: Yup, I'm baaack. (grins) Dunno if ya consider it a bad thing or good.

BUT, before getting on with the story… THANK YOU so much for your love, support and those fantastic reviews! (GLOMPS) It's easy to keep this baby floating and moving on with your help, ya know? So thank you! (hugs again)

Awkay… (takes a deep breath) Once again I'm having some annoying insecurities, so I'll need to jump forward before I'll change my mind about posting this. (gulps) I really hope you'll enjoy the ride!

* * *

><p>Safe Haven<p>

* * *

><p><em>Six Weeks Later<em>

* * *

><p>From the beginning Spencer had discovered that it wasn't easy to coax marshal Doneghy into letting him out of the safehouse. That's why he savoured every single opportunity he got.<p>

That morning he stood in the middle of a quiet street in a small town and closed his eyes, letting a surprisingly warm breeze caress his face. Freedom had never felt as good as it did just then. For a couple of seconds life was normal.

All of a sudden his eyes flew open. It could've been a scent or a hunch, or perhaps he was just imagining things. He turned his head and felt everything inside him freeze.

Right there, on the other side of the street, a dark skinned man stood reading a newspaper with his back towards him. The man's choice of clothing, the body structure… He didn't know what Derek was doing in that tiny town – perhaps he was working on a case – and honestly Spencer didn't even care.

Spencer's body reacted before his head had the chance to catch on. He approached the man, his lips open for calling out – until a firm hold grabbed his wrist.

Looking back with startle he found Doneghy. There was a extremely irritated look on the man's face. "You know better than well how dangerous it is to wander off in your situation. You should be a lot more careful."

Despair filling him Spencer looked over his shoulder just as the dark skinned man turned. It wasn't Derek. His eyes stung and he tried to tell himself it was because of sunlight. He swallowed laboriously, looking back towards Doneghy. "I'm sorry."

The marshal sighed, like a parent who'd just overreacted with their child in danger. "I know that this is frustrating but you need to try and hang in there for a while." The man nodded towards the car waiting for them. "Now let's get going. We've been out here too long already."

Spencer followed numbly, the searing sensation never disappearing from his eyes. He'd never felt as trapped and utterly lonely as he did when sitting into the car.

* * *

><p>Derek inhaled a sigh, focusing on the morning dawning outside the jet.<p>

It'd been a long, exhausting case. Five girls who hadn't even seen their twenty-fifth birthday had been murdered before they'd managed to catch the UnSub. Five innocent lives had been lost but somehow it was the furthest thing in Derek's mind.

All he could see was Spencer's eyes. That and Ellie's battered body, the bitterness in her eyes.

It was torture.

Deciding that he needed distraction before he'd lose his mind Derek began to put on his headphones until Aaron sat to the seat before him. Feeling a hint of misdirected resentment Derek put the headphones away, trying to keep his tone from sounding too hostile. "It was a long case."

Aaron nodded, looking at him with clearly visible worry. It took long before the man spoke. "You did well on this one."

Derek's eyebrow arched. "But…?"

Aaron sighed. "I'm sorry that you had to be suspended for a month. But I'm sure you understand why it was necessary." The pause between them wasn't a loaded one. "I also know that this is all taking a toll on you. And I'm here to listen when you're ready to talk."

Derek looked at his boss, his friend. It felt so good, to finally let go of all the grudgethat'd been swelling inside him for such a long time. He nodded, his stiff muscles relaxing for the first time in what felt like a decade. "I know."

The flight continued in silence, with Derek swimming in a world 'what ifs', 'could have beens' and 'maybes'.

It was going to be a damn long day.

* * *

><p>The two of them might've been even more restless if they'd known of the phone call that took place a couple of days later.<p>

Jackie Cullins from Las Vegas police department, who was trying to handle a exhausting amount of utterly dull paperwork, groaned before picking up. "Las Vegas police department, Jackie Cullins. How may I help you?"

"_Hello_", a very pleasant male voice greeted her. "_This is… sort of embarrassing, but… I'm __prosecutor __Timothy Logan. I just noticed that I forgot to deliver chief William Reid some documents yesterday. I was wondering if he's still in so I can bring them to him myself?_"

Jackie arched an eyebrow but didn't think much of it. "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid he left a few hours ago. He said he'd spend a while in Quantico. He wasn't sure when he'll be back"

"_Well that's a nice coincidence. I'll be on my way to Virginia soon as well. Maybe I can meet him there and finish off this case. Thank you. Have a good day._"

Jackie smiled. It wasn't every day people were this nice to her. "You too. Bye."

In a car that was speeding just below the limit of drawing attention George Foyet hung up. His face gained the expression of a skilled predator making its plan of attack.

Ellie gave him a sideways glance before focusing on the road. "Good news?"

Foyet nodded, a chilling smile appearing. "You could say that." He held a pause, focusing on the road. He was sick of running around. "It's time to go to Quantico."

The car sped on as shadows of the darkening evening set in.

* * *

><p>Spencer had never been a huge fan of TV. The only things he owned one for, really, were news and some quality documentaries. However, while in witness protection he'd come to discover that the noisy box in the living room's corner was an excellent distraction whenever his mind tried to jump on dangerous paths. That day, however, the TV offered him something entirely different.<p>

He'd been listening to the rather talentless scoop reporter trying to catch scandals with only half a ear, taking it as some sort of a white noise. The moment he heard the name George Foyet Spencer's whole world stopped for a second. Turning his head he saw a young, blonde haired woman on screen. 'Communication liaison Ashley Seaver' said the text below her. "_… still working tirelessly to catch Foyet. This is now a joined operation of several agencies._"

"_There are rumors that new leads have been discovered recently. Is that true?_"

Ashley's eyes answered for her mouth, at least for Spencer. "_I'm not at liberty to comment._"

The reporter didn't seem to catch what he did. "_Foyet's been missing for a very long time, now. It's already guessed that he's fled the country. Tell me honestly, is there any hope of catching him anymore?_"

Fire burned in the liaison's eyes. "_George Foyet has killed and hurt a lot of people. For all their sake, we're not giving up._"

Spencer swallowed, his heart beginning to thump.

They hadn't given up. For the first time in forever they had a lead. They were closing in on Foyet. All of a sudden there was hope that perhaps this nightmare might end one day.

Spencer was so focused on those thoughts that he jumped when the tiny apartment's door opened all of a sudden. Doneghy gave him a apologetic look upon entering with some groceries. "Sorry if I startled you." The man frowned. "Is everything alright?"

Spencer mused silently that these days, it appeared the definition of 'alright' had changed dramatically. "Yeah", he murmured while turning off the TV, something swirling in his stomach. He cleared his throat, feeling uncomfortable inside his own skin, too hot and torturously cold at the same time. "Do you… think you could take me somewhere? Please?"

* * *

><p>It'd been a endlessly long, exhausting day and all Derek wanted was to go home and sleep it all away. To sleep away <em>everything<em>.

He was already on his way to the building's door when he heard Penelope's voice. "Oh, thank gosh!" Her eyes sparkled with something that got him suspicious. "I was so afraid you'd left already."

Despite his growing curiosity he smirked. "Did you miss me already, Baby Girl?"

Penelope grinned. "Actually, Hot Stuff… There's something I want to show you."

He frowned, not really in the mood for any surprises. "What is it?"

"It wouldn't be a surprise if I'd tell you." She motioned for him to follow. "Come to my lair and you'll find out."

Derek did as he'd been told although he had a bad feeling about it. As soon as he got close to her computer and heard the music his heart skipped a beat. His eyes widened to a amusing extend while he blinked twice.

Right there on the screen stood Spencer, in a clearly abandoned auditorium of a school he couldn't recognize. Marshal Doneghy was close by, observing the environment with careful eyes, but Derek barely noticed the man.

Spencer… had cut his hair in a way that suited him very well and dyed them much darker. Derek couldn't be sure but it seemed the genius was wearing green contact lenses. The clothes on the younger man were such Derek had never seen before – a pair of tight black jeans and a red shirt that hugged his thin body. This new look made Derek's mind and body react in ways he would've never known to expect.

He barely heard Penelope. "It's live footage from a security camera. This crossed my mind when I… sort of caught a part of Doneghy's report to Hotch yesterday. Apparently Spencer's been pretty restless lately. Doneghy takes him there almost every day and he plays for hours." He felt her look. "I'm sorry I can't zoom closer but it'd mess the quality."

"It's okay." Finally Derek looked at Penelope, and smiled. "Thank you." It came from the bottom of his heart and soul.

Penelope nodded and smiled back, brushing his cheek affectionately with one hand. "You know I'd do anything for you, Sugar." With that she began to leave. "Treat my computer with love and care, got that? And enjoy. I'll see you tomorrow."

His focus once more on the screen Derek nodded in his turn. "See you tomorrow."

On the screen Spencer kept playing. And it became apparent that Derek wasn't the only one going through a emotional rollercoaster.

The breathtakingly beautiful, haunting melody was such Derek had never heard before. It slipped under his skin, into every single corner of him and filled him with all those things going through both of them.

It was music of longing, of anger, of affection, of promises. And somehow it managed to speak out all those words they weren't allowed to speak to each other. Derek didn't see tears but he heard and felt them while the other man kept playing like his life depended on it.

Derek stared, stared and listened. His heart hammered wildly while his whole body remained paralyzed.

Since he met Spencer he'd been wondering what in the world made the man so special, why the genius managed to sneak past all his walls and under his skin. The truth was right there, speeding through his veins.

Derek just didn't see it yet.

* * *

><p>Spencer played until his body couldn't handle the intensity anymore and stopped, gasping and his heart racing beyond all limitations. And somehow his chest felt just a little bit less tight than before. For a moment he just breathed easily.<p>

"Kid?" Doneghy, clearly not understanding any of the things blowing inside him, appeared worried. "Are you alright?"

Spencer nodded, the strangest tingling sensation still lingering on his skin. "Yeah. I think I am." He would've never, ever wanted to leave the tiny stage, the security of music, but he knew there wasn't much of a choice. "Let's go."

Walking with the marshal into the building's shadows Spencer tried not to think about the dark looming everywhere around him, surrounding him. Tried to force himself into believing that there might be light up ahead for him, too.

Maybe he wasn't done believing in miracles, after all.

* * *

><p>On his way home Derek did something he did quite often these days. He stopped to buy the day's newspaper. As soon as he was safely home he flipped through his purchase until he came across the 'personals' section. He couldn't help smiling upon noticing a message written by a very familiar pen name.<p>

Heaven knows how Spencer knew that he sometimes skimmed through 'personals' for fun. Derek wasn't surprised, though – he should've known to expect that the genius would find a way to contact him. However, when the first messages from 'Fowls' appeared it took him a while to realize what it was about and even longer to figure out what Spencer was trying to tell him.

'_Are you out there?_' the first message asked.

Since then they'd been exchanging these brief messages as often as they could without endangering Spencer's cover. No one – Doneghy, Aaron, Emily or even Penelope – knew of this exchange. They were careful with encrypting each message so that no one would consider it suspicious.

Focusing as hard as he could Derek observed the message, stared at the letters until the true message was clear before his eyes.

'_I'm safe and okay. I hope you are too._'

Derek smiled although a stab of pain went through him. It felt easier to breathe than it had in days, since he headed off for the case.

He savoured the feeling for a moment until he began to think through his response.

* * *

><p>Aaron was just preparing for going home when his cell phone started ringing. He knew who the caller was long before he made sure. The same person had been calling him a lot lately. "Hotchner."<p>

"_It's me._" William's voice was tight, just like it'd been since this whole nightmare began. "_I just… thought I should call, to ask if there's anything new._"

Aaron heard clearly what the man was truly asking. "Doneghy visited me yesterday. According to him Spencer is doing as well as can be expected under the circumstances." As well as anyone could with their whole life having been stolen, with having to run and hide from a psychopath without the slightest clue of when it would end. He took a breath. "Do you have anything new on Foyet?"

"_No._" William's teeth practically screeched. "_Honestly, I don't think there's a lot I can do to catch him in Vegas. He's long gone from the city. I have to try something different._"

Aaron's eyebrow arched. "What would that be?"

"_I… guess I'm trying profiling._"

Aaron shivered a little when there was a knock on his office's door. He walked over to open with a frown. Behind the door stood William Reid.

Aaron blinked once before finding his voice. "So you came to Virginia?"

There was a stone hard look in William's eyes. "Foyet is after my son. If he wants to get to Spencer he'll have to come here. And I need your help to catch him before it's too late."

* * *

><p>Gabriel Byrnes – a short, nearly bald fifty-year-old who'd been working in Witness Protection for longer than he cared to remember – had many flaws. Drugs and cheating his wife were only two things on the long list. But that night, as he stared at the beauty in front of him, he didn't really manage to feel like a lousy sinner.<p>

She had a good body, which was the thing that coaxed him into following her to a tiny motel room to begin with. The nearly transparent, tiny purply dress of hers only added the impact with showing a hint of black underwear and a promise of milky white skin. Her black eyes smouldered and her white, perfect teeth shone when she flashed him a smile. She played with her long, fire red hair as easily as she played with him.

When she invited him Gabriel didn't hesitate before following. He didn't even notice the scars on her body as he explored her.

It was no surprise that he didn't hear the gun before it was much too late. The look in the girl's eyes had changed.

Gabriel's eyes widened and he unleashed a tiny, squeaking sound, backing off until he fell off the bed. "Jesus Christ…!" Although he lifted his trembling hands his eyes narrowed. "You gave me your consent, bitch! I didn't force you!"

She scoffed. "Trust me, there's no way you could force me into _anything_." She leaned closer, almost pressing the gun to his forehead. "Now… Unless you want me to shoot through your miserable crown jewels I'd suggest you do me a little favor."

Gabriel swallowed hard, his eyes on the gun. It had a silencer on. No one would even know if… His breathing was getting disturbingly loud. "I… Please, just…" Tears blurred his eyes. "Anything. Just… Please, let me go. Please? Let me go and I'll do anything."

The girl smiled sweetly. "Give me what I want… and I'll set you free alright."

An hour later Ellie Spicer watched with emotionless eyes how water embraced Gabriel Byrnes' pitiable corpse, carrying it away. It was only a matter of time before he'd be found. The police would immediately classify his death as a robbery gone wrong. A lot more nice and clean than he would've deserved.

She didn't snap out of her thoughts until her cell phone rang. A grin appeared. "I was beginning to wonder when you'd call."

"_Where the hell are you?_" Foyet growled. "_We had an agreement, remember?_"

A wry expression appeared to her face. "I'm not on your payroll, Foyet. There was something I needed to take care of so I did."

"_What have I told you about drawing attention, Ellie? I haven't managed to continue this long with following all my urges. You're getting us caught!_"

Ellie grinned, rolling her eyes. "Yes, I was a bad girl. I disobeyed." She went on before he got the chance to interrupt her. "Now, I've got the name of Spencer's marshal. Interested?"

* * *

><p>TBC…<p>

A/N: This… does _not_ look good. (winces)

**PLEASE**, leave me a note and share your thoughts! Let me hear you out, folks. Pwease…? (gives one's most adorable pleading eyes) The next chapter is a touch from done and the one after that halfway there, so keep my inspiration alive and this story will be finished in no time. (grins cheekily)

IN THE NEXT ONE: A trap is already closing on Foyet, but is the man faster? His next move plunges a lot of people even deeper into the nightmare.

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><p>A TINY TRAILER FOR 'MAYHEM':<p>

/ Exactly two seconds later a timer appeared, counting down from ten. The room's temperature seemed to drop several degrees.

"Holy shit…!" Emily uttered. /

/ "How?" Derek's eyes were filled with naked fury and despair, the same emotions William had been struggling with since this all began. The agent's lower lip was trembling. "How the hell are we supposed to bring an end to this when we're not allowed to do a fucking thing?"

William's mouth opened, then closed again. And finally he uttered the only honest answer that came to mind. "I don't know." /

/ When Liam dashed through the doors he was having a full blown panic attack. That's why he couldn't possibly notice the person sitting there, waiting for him, before the man spoke. "Missing something, Liam?" /

/ No matter how hard he struggled the drug was stronger. Everything turned faded away into silent, gray fog. /

'_Hell is empty and all the devils are here._'  
>William Shakespeare<br>(The Tempest.)

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><p>Until next time, folks! I truly hope I'll see ya there. (glances hopefully)<p>

Peace out!

* * *

><p><strong>Katsakura<strong>: It's quite nervewrecking not knowing what's gonna happen, no? (shudders) Trust me, I know exactly how you feel.

I truly hope the next one meets your expectations.

Colossal thank yous for the review!

* * *

><p><strong>Nicolethecrazyone<strong>: Am I cruel to feel sort of proud for that? (smirks sheepishly)

I'm thrilled to hear you liked that scene! It was my favorite. (beams)

We'll see what happens next… With Foyet in the picture, one can never tell…

HUGE thank yous for the review!

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><p><strong>Winter Cicada<strong>: Waiting for? Oh, I'm so happy to hear that! (beams)

I'm so thrilled to hear you enjoyed those bits and pieces! Gosh. I truly hope you'll enjoy what I have in mind next as much…

Ya're right, 97 isn't THAT much. Especially for someone like Spencer. (grins)

Massive thank yous for the review! It really meant a lot to me, ya know?

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><p><strong>Reidland<strong>: So sad, no? (pouts) Let's hope those weren't their last moments together. They'd deserve to be happy.

We'll see what's the next part of Foyet's plan… (shudders)

Loads of thank yous for the review! (And you're welcome, hun. It's the least I could give you.)


	14. Mayhem

A/N: Yup, it's definitely time for another round of this one. (grins)

BUT, first things first… THANK YOU, so much, for those absolutely amazing review! (HUGS) They really make my day, ya know? So thank you!

Awkay… (takes a deep breath) There's about a million things I'm supposed to do so I'll have to jump right in. I truly hope you'll enjoy the ride, folks!

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><p>Mayhem<p>

* * *

><p><em>Three Weeks Later<em>

* * *

><p>It hadn't taken those hunting down Foyet long to figure out that finding Ellie Spicer would make finding the psychopath much easier. So far the girl had been infuriatingly good at avoiding the army of people after her. But that morning she made a unexpected mistake. She went to a pharmacy without bothering to disguise herself, allowing her face to be seen. In an instant people were following her, finally tracking her down to a abandoned block of flats in a far corner of the city. In there no one was asking questions. It was the perfect place for hiding.<p>

Aaron's eyes were even harder than usual as he observed the footage sent by a camera that'd been attached to a SWAT-team member's helmet. His team wasn't allowed to work on Foyet's case any longer, as Strauss had pointed out in no uncertain terms long ago – this was the closest to him they'd get. His team's warning of this being a potential trap had echoed on deaf ears. Now all they could do was wait and pray for the best.

The closer to the correct door the SWAT-team got the further William stiffened beside Aaron. Derek was practically seething on his other side. Aaron couldn't even imagine what was going through the agent's head at that very moment.

Aaron wasn't blind. He saw quite clearly how much Spencer meant to the dark skinned man, even if Derek himself was still struggling. If it'd been Haley in Spencer's shoes…

Just then there was a loud crash. The entire group watching tensed up when the SWAT-team infiltrated the apartment, securing every single corner. There was absolutely nothing. Mail had been thrown to the floor. Almost like…

"They're long gone", David growled. "They must've known they'd been found."

Aaron's blood ran cold as realization dawned. The exact same thought made William's eyes widen to a dangerous extend. "Son of a bitch…", the older man growled.

Just then the member of SWAT with the camera made it to the computer abandoned to a tiny table in the middle of what looked like a kitchen. They all noticed that the computer was promptly deleting files. When the man pressed a button a message popped up to the screen.

'_Don't ever try this again._'

Exactly two seconds later a timer appeared, counting down from ten. The room's temperature seemed to drop several degrees.

"Holy shit…!" Emily uttered.

There was a second of paralyzing terror before the SWAT-team was running. And then the bomb went off. The teammember carrying the camera fell down and stayed down. From the smoke and chaos it was impossible to tell if they all survived – if _any_ of them survived.

It wasn't until the room's door was thrown closed they realized that Derek had left. No one seemed surprised. William followed the lead soundlessly, a look of shock, defeat, anger and frustration on his ghostly pale face.

Aaron stared at the screen, at the smoke, at the devastation, trying to catch even the slightest glimpse of hope. No one was moving.

"They… They'll be okay, right?" Penelope's voice was shaking and Aaron wished he would've been able to console her but he couldn't even open his mouth.

The operation hadn't only failed miserably. This also meant that Foyet and Ellie were still out there, quite possibly more dangerous than ever before. This meant that all hell had just broken loose. There was no telling what would happen next.

* * *

><p>William made barely a sound as he took a seat next to Derek, who'd finally ended up slumping to a bench outside the building. He didn't care to know why the agent's knuckles were bloodied. His own were itching.<p>

"How?" Derek's eyes were filled with naked fury and despair, the same emotions William had been struggling with since this all began. The agent's lower lip was trembling. "How the hell are we supposed to bring an end to this when we're not allowed to do a fucking thing?"

William's mouth opened, then closed again. And finally he uttered the only honest answer that came to mind. "I don't know." His eyes narrowed while he watched a father and son walking hand in hand on the other side of the street. The father looked around carefully before daring to cross the street with his child. "Yet."

Heaven knows William hadn't been much of a father. But this was his _son_ on the line. This was the thing that meant the most to him on the line. And there was absolutely no way in hell was about to stand in the sidelines and watch.

* * *

><p>At the age of six Laura Doneghy – a pretty little girl with long, honey colored hair and massive brown eyes – knew better than well to be aware of strangers. Her dad had taught her that very early on. Today, however, she still hadn't been picked up from school almost an hour after her last class was over and she was getting ready to jump into any car that'd take her.<p>

By the time Laura heard approaching steps there were tears in her eyes. She turned her head to see a young woman with chin-length black hair and blue eyes. The woman smiled at her. "Hi, Laura. I'm Ellie, your new babysitter."

Laura frowned. True, her dad her told her that she'd get a new babysitter today but she was supposed to come straight to their house. Her dad was supposed to pick her up. "Where's daddy?" she inquired quietly.

"He was busy with work", Ellie explained in a gentle tone, poking her nose with one finger. "He told me to take extra good care of you."

Laura's frown didn't fade away. "Does daddy know you're here? I don't want him to worry."

Ellie smiled, ruffling her hair quite hard. "Don't worry, sweetie, you'll get to see daddy soon. Now let's go. I've got some special treats for you."

Easily convinced Laura grinned radiantly and took Ellie's hand, letting the woman lead her away.

* * *

><p>Spencer didn't know what chased marshal Doneghy out of the safehouse that afternoon like there'd been fire on the man's tails. It was already one o'clock – the man was late for picking up his daughter. Spencer wondered if it had something to do with the mysterious phonecalls the man had been making and receiving all day. It infuriated him that the marshal wouldn't tell him anything. Wouldn't he be safer if he'd know all facts?<p>

Trying to distract himself from thinking too much Spencer shifted his attention to Doneghy's laptop, typed his way into a online chess game. Usually he wasn't a big fan of technology but in this isolation – confinement – he didn't really have a lot to do.

Spencer blinked twice, his entire capacity of thinking becoming paralyzed in a unnatural way, when he saw an invitation to a private game. He stared at the name on the screen.

'_Vonnegut_'.

His memory clicked, delivered him a picture of Derek standing by his bookshelf. What had the dark skinned man been examining so intently? The answer popped in instantly.

Vonnegut's 'Mother Night'.

Spencer accepted the invitation against all the warning of his head. This could be a trap, a disastrous mistake. He didn't care.

All hesitation melted away when Vonnegut's first line appeared to the tiny chat-box only he and the other player saw. '_It's your move, Pretty Boy._'

Spencer licked his lips, his heartbeat slipping out of control. It was so hard to believe that after such a long time… He made a move.'_How did you find me?_' The caution was still there, lingering.

'_I'm not naming any names but a certain someone hinted that there's a suspiciously familiar player on this site. I've been logged in for five hours, waiting for you._' Derek's move was made easily on the virtual gameboard. '_I just wanted to make sure you're alright. I mean, it's been a while…_'

At that moment Spencer found himself doing something he hadn't done in a long time. He smiled. This time he didn't hesitate before making his move on the board. '_I'm fine. I'm safe._' His expression faltered before he typed more. '_I just wish I was there._'

'_It's not going to be like this forever._' Derek made another move. The man was losing quickly. '_I promised, remember? I'm not going to give up._'

'_I know._' Spencer's new move sent Derek towards his doom. Without a warning his eyes began to sting. He wiped them although he didn't feel any moisture. This was all so frustrating that he wanted to scream. '_I miss you._' He regretted typing those words as soon as he saw them. He wasn't sure if he'd even wanted Derek to see them yet.

There was a torturous pause before Derek did anything. '_I have to go. Boss is calling._' The man's next move was the agent's downfall. '_You'll get out of there soon. I promise._' With that the bizarre meeting was over, just as unexpectedly as it'd began. 'Vonnegut' logged out.

Spencer stared at the computer screen for several moments, trying to convince himself that he hadn't imagined the exchange that'd just taken place. Then, finally regaining his ability to function, he switched off the computer, nearly dropped it to the floor and lay down on the couch, deciding that he wouldn't even try to focus on the book he'd been starting with. He lay down, fixed his eyes on the ceiling and brought one unsteady hand to his chest.

His heart was pounding, swelling and breaking in his chest, and he had absolutely no clue what to do about it.

* * *

><p>It was bad enough that Liam Doneghy was late for picking up his daughter because of George Foyet and the failed attempt of catching the man. It turned into a true nightmare when he finally made it to the school and discovered that Laura had already been taken. None of the teachers had a clue of where his daughter was.<p>

When Liam dashed through the doors of his small house he was having a full blown panic attack. That's why he couldn't possibly notice the person sitting there, waiting for him, before the man spoke. "Missing something, Liam?"

Liam stopped dead on his tracks, his head whipping to side. His eyes narrowed and filled with sheer rage as soon as he recognized George Foyet sitting on his couch. It took every ounce of self control he had not to jump on the man instantly and… "What the fuck have you done to my daughter?" he bellowed instead, his voice shaking with wrath.

Foyet's expression didn't change. "My… partner is looking after her. She's safe, that much I promise you. How long she stays that way is entirely up to you."

Liam saw red. His whole body shook and twitched while feelings began to boil over. "You son of a bitch…!" he screeched although he knew full well how dangerous it was to anger this man. "If you lay a finger on my daughter…!"

"You're getting it all wrong, Liam", Foyet interrupted him in a calm, dangerous tone. "You see, what happens to her is entirely up to you. The choice is in your hands."  
>Liam frowned, almost choking on wrath. "What choice?" Because from where he was standing he quite honestly couldn't see any choices.<p>

Foyet leaned forward on the couch, appearing far too pleased to his liking. "What I'm asking for is a simple, in my opinion quite fair trade." A second, two, ticked by. "I give you your daughter… as soon as you give me Spencer."

For the longest time Liam could only stare, wondering if this could all be real. Was Foyet honestly…? "You're asking me to sacrifice Spencer." It wasn't a question.

Foyet shrugged. "It's either Spencer, or your daughter. So ask yourself… Which one is more important to you? Which one's life are you willing to leave into my hands?"

Liam swallowed, feeling sick to his stomach. His heart raced while a searing sensation took over his eyes.

He'd already buried a wife. He didn't think he could live through burying a daughter as well.

* * *

><p>By the time Derek made it home his head was killing him. It didn't make things any easier that Spencer's words were circling there, surrounding him, tormenting him.<p>

/ _'I miss you.'_ /

Opening the door and marching in Derek discovered Clooney snoozing on the couch. He arched an eyebrow. "You have absolutely no respect for me whatsoever, do you?" he inquired and snorted when the canine merely gave him a wry look. "Stop looking at me like that. I already know I fucked up."

Clooney emitted something that sounded suspiciously lot like a snort, then shifted so that its behind was towards him. '_Well, duh_', the gesture said.

Derek rolled his eyes, making his way to his computer and opening it faster than he managed to think.

He was almost relieved 'Fowles' wasn't logged in. Relieved and worried. What if something was wrong? What if he'd…?

_Stop it!_, he commanded himself in the end.

He swallowed, feeling out of breath and empty. "You know …" He licked his lips. "I miss you, too."

The apartment was completely, utterly silent. Usually Derek didn't mind – he'd lived alone long enough. But right now…

Right now he had this unexplainable bad feeling in his stomach. And he truly wished the words he'd failed to speak would still find their way to Spencer.

* * *

><p>Spencer was so deep in thought that he jumped when the apartment's door opened and Doneghy marched in, a grave look on his face.<p>

Spencer frowned, his posture stiffening instantly. "Where have you been?" Something about the other man's expression was really scaring him. "What's going on?"

Doneghy looked at him directly into eyes. He saw a million emotions of which he could only name half. "Something's come up. We need to leave right away."

Spencer swallowed, cold spreading through. "I'll start packing."

"There's no time for such." Doneghy's voice was laced with something that got him suspicious, something that troubled him deeply. The man seemed to be in a great deal of pain. "Just… Just put on your jacket. We've gotta go."

For the past nine weeks Doneghy had been the most solid and constant tie Spencer had to the outside world, the thing he had to rely on in order to survive. That's why he chose not the question although he had a feeling he should've. Instead he put on his jacket and let Doneghy lead him through the door.

They'd been driving for ten minutes in utter silence, Doneghy driving and Spencer occupying the backseat like he always did, until the genius decided that it was high time the other did some explaining. "Doneghy, where are you taking me? What is this?"

It was dark outside, enough so to keep him from seeing Doneghy's face properly. All he truly saw were the man's eyes. He felt chills upon noticing the tears. "Spencer… If there was a way I could've kept you safe I would've. I need you to understand that. If I would've had the chance to I would've done pretty much anything for you, just like I promised Derek, Aaron and your father. I would've."

Spencer's eyes widened as realization began to dawn. He reacted quickly but wasn't fast enough against Doneghy, who'd been preparing for this from the start. In a flash the door was locked, blocking his exit. And then he cried out upon feeling sharp pain in the back of his neck.

Whatever the drug was it _burned_ on its way through and took affect almost immediately. Doneghy's face was nothing but blur when Spencer tried to look at the man a few seconds later. He was dimly aware of the fact that his body was trembling. "Please…", he breathed.

He couldn't tell what the sound he heard was. "I… I'm sorry, Spencer. I'm so sorry." With that the marshal left the vehicle.

Spencer knew he should've struggled to stay awake, that he should've tried to keep himself alert and prepared. But the drug was much too strong. With a barely audible whimper of anger and defeat he slumped to the backseat, his eyes slipping closed already.

The car's door opened once more. On the brink of unconsciousness Spencer hoped and prayed that he only dreamt hearing Foyet's voice. Somehow he doubted he would've been so lucky. "Hello, Spencer. It's been a while."

No matter how hard Spencer struggled the drug was stronger. Everything faded away into silent, gray fog.

* * *

><p>As he walked on Liam wanted to scream, wanted to throw up, wanted to kill someone. Needed someone telling him that this was all just a sick joke.<p>

And then he saw Laura, standing beside a girl he immediately recognized as Ellie Spicer.

The child beamed at him. "Hi daddy! Ellie's really nice. She let me have ice-cream for dinner. Nora never did."

Hearing his daughter's voice Liam couldn't hold himself back for another second. He ran to the child, fell to his knees and pulled the girl into a tight, crushing hug. And for the first time since his wife's death he cried.

"Daddy?" Laura was starting to sound scared. "What's wrong?"

Liam wished from the bottom of his heart that he could've said everything was fine, that it was all going to work out, now. But he couldn't when he heard Foyet start the car where Spencer was unconscious, when he saw moonlight flashing on the gun Ellie was reaching out for.

And then Ellie hid the gun once more. There was a unreadable look on her face. "I hope you know how lucky you two are", she stated before walking away without a single glance backwards. The car's door sounded like a gunshot.

"Daddy." There was audible fear in Laura's voice. "Daddy, you're holding too tight. You're scaring me."

Liam swallowed down a sob, unable to stop the tears from rolling. "I'm sorry, honey", he choked out in a whisper. "I'm sorry." He wondererd how much she'd hate him if she knew. He wondered if she'd ever forgive him.

Liam wondered how _he'd_ ever forgive himself.

The car disappeared, taking away Spencer, taking away Foyet, stealing absolutely all light. The two of them were left into total darkness.

* * *

><p>TBC, no?<p>

* * *

><p>AN: Oh boy… (winces) Things aren't looking good right now. The poor things!

**PLEASE**, leave a review! Whatever your thoughts and feelings on this are, let me hear them out! Your views mean a lot to me, ya know? (gives puppy's eyes)

The next two chapters are already on my drawing board, receiving their polishing touches. You're really keeping my inspiration up, ya know? (grins)

* * *

><p>I really liked the idea of a trailer last time, so I'm doing it again. (grins) Here's a taster for 'The Longest Night' and 'Our Darkest Hour'. (Remember, they're still under reconstruction so minor changes may take place.)<p>

/ _Derek was dimly aware of how dangerously he was driving while not looking both ways before joining the main road's traffic. "Do you still remember that favor you owe me? I could use it now."_ /

/ _Aaron frowned, already preparing himself for the worst. A sick feeling rose and formed a ball into his stomach. "What's wrong?"_

_JJ swallowed thickly, her eyes appearing suspiciously moist. "A… A package arrived a while ago. A woman matching Ellie's description left it for this little boy to be delivered. It's been examined carefully and has nothing dangerous in it, but…" She trailed off._ /

/ _Derek didn't have the time to catch his breath before there was the sound of a door opening. The bedroom's door was opening even further._

_"I assume you've been looking for me?"_ /

/ _A gunshot rang out._ /

"_I'm saying to myself, 'This has got to be a nightmare'. I haven't woken up yet._"

(Curtis Sliwa)

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><p>Until next time, folks! 'Hope ya'll be sticking around.<p>

Take care!

* * *

><p><strong>Nicolethecrazyone<strong>: You're so kind. (beams and blushes)

Massive thank yous for the review!

* * *

><p><strong>Katsakura<strong>: William's in alright. We'll see just what kind of a part he's about to play…

It'd be cool to write Diana in again. I love her character.

I really hope you'll enjoy the brand new part.

Colossal thank yous for the review!

* * *

><p><strong>Winter Cicada<strong>: I bet poor Spencer is absolutely losing it with all the hiding. (winces)

Kind of adorable that Derek got at least a glimpse of his Pretty Boy, no? (grins)

Heh! I loved the message idea when I first ran into it with 'The Red Dragon' and couldn't resist making my own version of it now that I got the chance. (And yup, it was two murderers communicating. I hope I'm not making a huge spoiler here…) (grins) 'Glad to hear ya liked it.

We'll see what happens next, with William and Ellie firmly in the game…

Monumental thank yous for the review! And don't worry about the delay, hun. I'm happy as long as you're out there and enjoying the ride. (grins and hugs)

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><p><strong>Reidland<strong>: It's all up in the air, isn't it? (shudders) Let's hope those two get their chance without Foyet or anyone else shadowing their lives.

Awww, I'm happy to hear you enjoyed the messaging. Don't worry, NO ONE else but the two of them knows about it. (smirks)

Monumental thank yous for the review!


	15. The Longest Night

A/N: Hiya there, folks! (grins) Dang, it feels good to be back. Not that I would've been gone for long this time around. (smirks)

Buuut, before getting to the BIG business… Thank you so much for all the love and support you've given this story! (glomps) At the moment I'm on fire with this, and it's all thanks to you. You can't even imagine how grateful I am right now. (beams)

Awkay… (takes a deep breath) Let's rock, shall we? I truly hope you'll find this worthy of all your expectations.

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><p>The Longest Night<p>

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><p>This time around it wasn't just a nightmare.<p>

By the time Derek barged out of his car and dashed to the scene the forest opening was already full of light and noise. It seemed the city's entire police force was there, along with several FBI-agents. Red and blue flashed on grave faces.

Almost in the middle of it all stood Erin Strauss. She turned her head upon hearing his steps and the snarls he gave to those who dared to question his presence on the scene. It took less than two seconds before she looked away once more, her eyes full of unvoiced guilt. The red light flashing across her face and hands looked like blood.

It was too late.

Derek froze completely, it all striking him like a wall of bricks. His whole body shook while he fought not to throw up.

Finally everyone seemed to disregard him. Perhaps they looked at his face and realized that he was harmless and there was absolutely nothing they could do for him.

The only one brave enough to approach him was David Rossi. The man's eyes were even darker than usual while the older agent emitted a long, exhausted sigh.

All of Derek's willpower was what it took to push the single word through his lips. "Anything?"

David hesitated for a second before speaking in a quiet voice he'd never heard before. "It was all over in a flash. They were gone before Doneghy got the chance to dial 911." The man seemed to debate something. "Morgan… I'm sorry."

Derek's eyes narrowed. "Don't… fucking say that", he growled, feeling dangerous burning in his eyes. His voice shook pitiably. "He isn't dead, Rossi. We've still got time. So don't fucking say that."

David nodded. They didn't say anything anymore.

Erin gritted her teeth as she observed the two of them.

She knew it'd been the right thing to pull Aaron's team off of this particular case. There were too many personal connections, too much raw emotion. But as she watched the sight unfolding before her eyes she couldn't help wondering if she'd made a mistake, after all.

She finally managed to look away when Aaron stood beside her. It was hard to read what was sparkling deep in the stone faced man's eyes. "Doneghy's at the station under questioning", the unit chief informed her, his voice cooler than steel. "He's already lost his job. They're trying to determine whether he should be arrested as well."

Erin frowned, glancing towards Derek once more. The man looked lik a ticking time bomb. "Make sure he's far away from agent Morgan", she adviced, then turned on her heels and headed towards her car. "This is already going to be all over the news. We don't need a additional story of how a federal agent killed a U.S. Marshal." With that she left the scene, not looking over her shoulder towards the dead, cold lights.

* * *

><p>To William Reid the world stopped turning the moment his cell phone rang, followed by Aaron's words.<p>

/ _"We failed."_ /

He'd never told Spencer that he visited Diana occasionally. Almost every single time she was so delusional that she didn't even notice he was there. One visit made an exception. That crispy day of January she looked at him, looked deep into his eyes and took both of his hands, squeezed so tightly it hurt. She was the woman he married. The mother of his son.

/ _"Make sure he's safe. Now that I can't… Promise me that you'll protect him. Promise me."_ /

William swallowed thickly, wiping his tired eyes.

Aaron was wrong. _They_ hadn't failed – it was never their job to keep his son safe.

He wasn't there when Spencer broke his leg while driving a bike. He wasn't there when school bullies tormented his son. He wasn't there when Spencer had to send his mom into a hospital. He wasn't there when…

What kind of a father did that make of him?

Forcing that thought away with such determination it hurt William looked around. Spencer's new apartment was smaller than he'd expected but that was where the surprises ended. Although his son hadn't lived there for long the entire apartment held Spencer's essence in every corner – Spencer's spirit was thick in the air. If he really focused William could practically see his son on the couch, with a book in his hands and that concentrated look on his face…

And that was when he noticed it, almost hidden into the bookshelf. William approached with a frown, finally taking the photograph into his hand and examining it.

Diana must've taken the picture. In it a five-year-old Spencer was sitting on his shoulders, cheeks red and excitement written all over his child's eyes. The child held on to him so tightly, with utter trust. They both had wide smiles on their faces.

/ _"I love you, daddy."_ /

William hadn't cried when his son had to be hidden. He hadn't cried when Aaron called him and told of the current evening's events. But that memory cracked something inside him.

Like in slowed motion William sat down and buried his face into his hands.

No one heard the long overdue apology he sobbed out.

* * *

><p>Liam Doneghy knew that he'd made a lot of mistakes in his life. But he'd never, ever felt the way he did that day, sitting in the interrogation room without knowing what was going to happen to him. Without knowing what'd happened to Spencer.<p>

And then Aaron Hotchner entered the room. There was a stone hard look on the man's face as the unit chief slid to the opposite side of the table and sat down, dark eyes looking right into his. The silence that followed lasted a lifetime. "Your car was found abandoned right outside the city. There was a small amount of blood on the backseat. We're fairly sure it's Spencer's."

Doneghy swallowed, twitching with discomfort. "What do you want me to say?"

"I don't think there are any words that would make much difference." Aaron took a breath, then focused on the documents on the table. "Right now the only thing you can do is give a truthful, accurate report on the past day's events."

Outside the room, with only a window in between them, absolutely everything inside Derek was burning while he listened to Doneghy's story.

Foyet… That son of a bitch had found Doneghy's daughter.

Doneghy made his decision and sacrificed Spencer, tossing the genius into Foyet's hands.

Spencer was in Foyet's hands, just because Doneghy hadn't been cautious enough to have his child protected properly.

There was no justice left in the world.

Just then he heard steps and turned his head quickly. David stood beside him with a unreadable expression. "It's already ten p.m., Morgan."

Derek frowned, not liking the direction the conversation was headed. "So what? Everyone else is working."

David looked at him pointedly. "Not everyone has someone they care about in the hands of a serial killer."

Derek's eyes narrowed while the walls he'd built around himself long ago rose once more, creating a wall of bricks between them. "Do you seriously want to have this conversation _now_? Now, when we…" He balled his fists painfully tightly. "How I feel or don't feel is none of your business, Rossi."

David nodded, like a patient parent trying to handle a challenging teenager. "In most cases that might be true. But right now…" The older agent glanced towards the interrogation room. "Right now it's a matter of minutes before Doneghy will be led out of there." David looked at him directly to his eyes. "Do you honestly trust yourself to be here then?"

For the longest time Derek stared at the man incredulously, such fury he'd never felt before blowing inside. Then, choosing to leave before he'd say or do something he'd regret, he turned sharply and walked away with loud steps. He didn't look back even when he heard the interrogation room's door open although the temptation nearly killed him.

The air outside surprised Derek with its coldness. He shivered, only adrenaline and rage keeping him from wrapping his arms around himself.

So there was no waking up from this nightmare.

He made it to his car until he felt something that made chills travel up and down his spine. He looked around with a frown, spotting no one who should've made him suspicious. Then a thought flashed through him.

Every muscle in his body stiffened while he knelt down, peering up at the bottom of his car. Nothing suspicious there, either. The frown from before deepened while he straightened his body and looked around once more, his eyes nearly frantic.

What the hell was going on? Was he losing his mind completely?

He shivered, slipping to the driver's seat and starting the vehicle cautiously. He exhaled loudly when nothing happened. The storm of adrenaline and relief faded quickly while a flash of Spencer's face appeared to his line of vision.

He fastened his handsfree with a badly shaking hand, then dialed a number he hadn't used in ages. There was a response while he began to drive off. "_Well hello, stranger._"

"Hey." His voice was tight and loaded. He was dimly aware of how dangerously he was driving while not looking both ways before joining the main road's traffic. "Do you still remember that favor you owe me? I could use it now."

What Derek failed to notice, was that there was indeed someone observing him from the shadows.

Ellie Spicer gave a tiny, crooked grin while watching how Derek's car disappeared, her hand slipping slowly from the gun on her belt.

He was still alive because she'd chosen to grant him that much. For now that was enough.

She put on her motorcycle helmet and drove off, disappearing like a ghost although she'd just been right under the noses of those chasing her.

* * *

><p>It'd been damn long day, Aaron concluded while tossing his cell phone to his desk, rubbing the bridge of his nose in a desperate attempt to control the swelling pain.<p>

He'd tried to call William Reid ten times without a reply. There was no way he coul've taken that as a good sign even if he wasn't a profiler. He preferred not wondering where the man was at the moment. Just like he was quite happy without knowing just how much worse things could get before this nightmare would be over.

It was like a collection of domino pieces falling.

The knock on his office's door startled him. Aaron took a deep breath, almost like bracing himself, before calling out. "Come in." He immediately regretted the invitation upon seeing the person entering.

He didn't quite manage to convince himself that he only imagined the reek of alcohol that hung thickly on Erin Strauss while she slumped quite heavily to the chair on the opposite side of his desk. She appeared utterly exhausted.

"Are you alright?" he inquired although it wouldn't have been necessary to ask.

She gave him a look that said it all, then groaned, rubbing her face although it messed her makeup. "I hate reporters." It took a while before she managed to focus on him. Her eyes were bleary. "Please, tell me your team has something."

"With all due respect, this case was re-handed to my team only hours ago", he pointed out.

A tiny smirk appeared to her lips. "Like you wouldn't have been working on this unofficially for much longer." She then frowned. "How's agent Morgan?"

Aaron sighed. "He's… dealing." Seeing the look that flashed in her eyes he hurried to add. "He's been sent home. As much as I'd need him in this he's too unstable to be working right now. Dave and Prentiss just headed towards the apartment where Foyet had left a bomb for the SWAT-team, to see if there's anything useful."

Erin nodded slowly, appearing nauseated. Her jaw tightened. "The SWAT-team… I just got a call. The last of them died in the hospital half an hour ago."

Aaron shivered, feeling a wave of repulsion. How long was this madness going to continue? How the hell were they supposed to bring an end to it?

Just then the room's door was thrown open without a knock, alerting both of them. They didn't relax much even as they recognized the person entering as JJ. Aaron had never seen the kind of a look on the young blonde's face they held at the moment.

He frowned, already preparing himself for the worst. A sick feeling rose and formed a ball into his stomach. "What's wrong?"

JJ gulped, her eyes appearing suspiciously moist. "A… A package arrived a while ago. A woman matching Ellie's description left it for this little boy to be delivered."

It was around then Aaron noticed the tiny package in her trembling hands. '_To William Reid_' said the sticker on it. His blood ran cold as he noticed the dark, already dried red staining cardboard. "Is that…?"

JJ nodded slowly, not managing to say a word, then handed the package to him slowly. Aaron wanted to throw up when he saw the contents. Some moisture appeared into his eyes and he tried to tell himself it was from fatigue. Erin swore loudly before leaving the room.

In the package was a cut off finger of Spencer's.

'_Don't worry, William_', said the bloodied note that lay beside the finger. _'I'll give him back to you, piece by piece._'

* * *

><p>Derek understood, on some level, why he was sent home. With how off balance he was he might've ended up hurting someone. Understanding that didn't mean he would've liked it.<p>

Two hours after slamming the door and scaring Clooney Derek was sitting on a couch in total darkness, his face buried into his hands while his mind spun a million miles per hour. All that fit into his head was Spencer.

In the end he did the only thing he could to salvage the little there was left of his sanity. He took his cell phone and dialed Spencer's number. Of course it was against all reason to expect a reply. Nonetheless receiving none sent a dagger through his heart.

Derek swallowed thickly, then half-whispered in a voice he couldn't recognize. "Spencer, I… I know you can't hear this right now, but… I want you to remember that I haven't given up. I'll _never_ give up. So hang on, okay? Hang in there. Because… Because whatever it takes I'm going to bring you back home. I'm not letting you go."

Only silence and Clooney's soft, almost sympathetic whimpering answered him. He'd just spilled out his heart and soul, and that was all he got in response. Maybe that bitter thought was what finally pushed him over the edge.

As Derek buried his face into both hands and felt something inside him crack before it fell to pieces he didn't know what the hell was going on, what he was about to do and how this was all going to end. There was only one thing he knew with such clearness that it scared him out of his mind.

It was one hell of a moment to realize that you were slowly yet surely falling for someone.

Almost mercifully the doorbell cut those thoughts before they managed to take over him completely. While he wiped his eyes swiftly Clooney growled. He glanced towards the canine. "Take it easy, boy. Everything's okay", he commanded in a voice that didn't sound quite convincing.

This was the right thing to do. So why didn't he feel that way?

Derek made his way to the apartment's door although his feet didn't feel quite stable and peered carefully through the door eye before daring to open.

Behind his door stood Elle Greenaway.

* * *

><p>The pain was <em>everywhere<em>.

Spencer opened his eyes. It happened so easily that it almost scared him. He opened his eyes, and saw George Foyet. There was a unreadable expression on the serial killer's face. Spencer's eyes widened while his heart began to race.

It was incredible how he'd never seen the things in Foyet's eyes he did now.

They simply stared at each other for the longest time before Foyet finally spoke, standing so close that he couldn't see his surroundings. "I didn't want to bring you into this, Spencer. I hope you understand that. If it was up to me… I'd keep you close, and never let you go." The man ran a hand through Spencer's hair, which was something the genius used to like. "But some things are simply out of our control."

Spencer swallowed, twisting his wrists. He didn't know what they were tied with but it _hurt_. He was almost sure that there was blood on his fingers. "Why…" He licked his lips before trying again. "Why am I here?"

Foyet smiled. "Don't play dumb with me, Spencer. It doesn't suit you." The man tapped his forehead gently with two fingers. "Think, Spencer. The answer is right there."

And it was. Flashes of the crime scene photos, of the victims' faces, of all those cruelties, flashed through his mind. He knew. "You're going to kill me."

Foyet nodded, appearing so calm that it chilled him. "That's right." The man's hand caressed his cheek. "But not yet. Not before every player is in their correct position."

Spencer's chest grew unbearably cold. Pieces began to click in his throbbing head. The pain in his hand was escalating steadily.

"There's one thing about chess I really don't like", Foyet said. It was terrifying, really, that this man looking at him was quite clearly the one he'd shared his bed with. He _knew_ those eyes. "It's that sometimes to win… you have to sacrifice something valuable."

* * *

><p>TBC, right?<p>

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><p>Ya thought that was bad? Oh boy, it's only just getting started. (winces) We'll see just how deep into the dark this all leads…<p>

The next two chapters are ALMOST done, so we may see it all soon.

**PLEASE,** please do leave a note! By now ya'va gotta know how much it'd mean to me. (gives huge puppy's eyes)

IN THE NEXT ONE: A surprise finally leads the team to Foyet's location, but is it too late? Meanwhile a long awaited meeting takes place. As it all comes down with the force of a thunder it becomes clear that things will never be the same again. Next up, 'Our Darkest Hour'.

Until next time, everyone! I really hope I'll see ya then.

Peace out!

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><p><strong>Nicolethecrazyone<strong>: Goodness me, hopefully not literally! I'd hate to get sued…

Jk. (grins) I'm absolutely thrilled to hear you enjoyed it so! We'll see how you feel of what's to come…

Massive thank yous for the review!


	16. Our Darkest Hour

A/N: This has gotta be a record of mine. Yay? (grins)

But first, of course… GOSH! THANK YOU, so much, for your love and support! Having readers like you makes me feel really lucky, ya now? (hugs) So thank you!

Awkay, guys. (takes a deep breath) I really hope you're ready for one heck of a hurricane. (gulps) Let's get rocking.

SONG RECOMMENDATION: 'In the End' by Linkin Park.

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><p>Our Darkest Hour<p>

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><p>If there was anything Ellie Spicer was good at it was reading people, gathering information on them. Sometimes she amused herself with wondering if she could've become a profiler, in another reality, with a different history.<p>

Finding out that Derek owned several apartments, some of which he rented, had been child's play. His tenants were chatty, especially one old lady named Catherine. He was a nice man, always fixing things in the apartments if asked to. Ellie listened to these stories with a well faked smile.

Ellie settled into Derek's most unfinished purchase two weeks after arriving to Quantico, never once asking Foyet's permission to do so. Derek was her business, the one thing that'd kept her going since the dark and abrupt end of her childhood. She didn't give a damn what Foyet thought about it.

So, as often as she could she sat in the dark apartment, observing the shadows lingering on the walls. She sat there and waited, knowing what was inevitable. It seemed she was far more patient than she'd ever anticipated. Until one day she was finally rewarded.

Foyet made leaving easy with telling her that there was something he needed to do alone. Ellie knew exactly where to go. She entered the apartment – and in exactly one minutes heard surprisingly familiar steps approaching in the hallway.

Her eyes flashed.

* * *

><p>It'd been almost a week from when Foyet took Spencer, from when the hell that'd lasted far too long moved to a entirely new level.<p>

Aaron didn't know if William's or Derek's expression had been more unbearable to look at when they saw Spencer's cut off finger. William had spent the rest of the day at a shooting range. Emily had picked Derek up from a bar that night, just in time to keep the agent from ending up into a fight with a man who was most likely a member of some violent gang.

Three days later they received eight harshly pulled out toe nails that had blood on them. Derek nearly punched a hole in a wall. William drowned himself into paperwork.

Just this morning three smashed teeth were delivered to them. Aaron hadn't seen Derek since and could only pray that the man hadn't done something stupid. William had been pacing around the bureau like a caged tiger, desperate to find something or someone to tear apart.

The approaching doom was so thick and clear in the air that Aaron could taste it.

And then William's cell phone started ringing. A bizarre, very alarming look appeared to the man's face.

Aaron frowned, something in the back of his head whispering a warning. "Who is it?" he rather demanded than asked.

William looked at him with a loud gulp. "There's no caller ID. I don't know." The man's eyes, however, revealed that he did.

"Put him on speaker." Aaron was quick to dial Penelope's number. He didn't wait for her to say a word before he spat out the order. "Garcia, I need you to track down the phone call William's about to get."

"_Yes, sir. I'm already on it._"

William's fingers trembled when the man picked up, then put the caller on speaker. "Chief William Reid."

"_Hello, William._" It didn't take a lot to recognize Foyet's voice. The man sounded calm and so very pleased that it brought chills all over the team present. "_It's nice to hear your voice again. I've heard you've recovered from our last… encounter._"

William's eyes narrowed. And despite the fact that he was a professional the man was also a father. A father whose child had been harmed. No warnings would've controlled him. "What the hell have you done to my son?" the man hissed out in a wounded, venomous tone.

"_I thought I made myself clear in the letter. You will get him back – piece by piece._" Foyet's tone of voice changed slightly which made Aaron's eyebrow arch. The man sounded almost… angry, remorseful. "_I didn't want to hurt him, William. If you'd accepted my deal I would've never been forced to lay a hand on him. You're the one who made this personal._" And then, as fast as it'd slipped, the complete control was back. "_I think it's only befitting that he's laid to rest in the same place as his uncle._"

Sheer terror, despair, wrath and grief took over William's eyes, and Aaron would've given a lot if he'd been able to offer anything to console the man. The older Reid appeared ready to throw up. "Foyet, don't you dare…!"

But it was already too late. The phone call was over.

A tiny eternity passed by with the rest of them practically staring at William, watching helplessly while the man was falling apart into a million tiny pieces. Then they heard Penelope's quiet, unsteady voice. "_I… I got him. I've got an address._"

"I already know where they are." They were all startled when they heard William's voice. There was something terrifying hiding in the man's eyes. "My brother, Daniel… He was buried here, in Quantico. It was in this small church, only twenty minutes from here. St Theresa's. I think it's been closed years ago." The man's eyes carried terror and desperate hope. "I took Spencer with me to the funeral – it was the first time he got out of Las Vegas."

It took a couple of seconds before it all registered to them, before they dared to believe what was happening. And then everything was speeding forward.

"Alright", Aaron stated, his voice gaining its usual tight, professional tone. "Let's get going." His eyes swept towards William. "You can wait…"

It wasn't that much of a surprise that the man shook his head vehemently, gritting his teeth. "My son is in there, Aaron. That bastard… He may have…" The man inhaled a gasping breath. "I will _not_ wait. Not this time. If it was Jack in Spencer's shoes would you stand back?"

Aaron found himself unable to say and do what he should've. He was a father, too. He knew that if he wouldn't let William along… "Stay out of our way. And control yourself. Understood?" He went on at William's stiff nod. "Garcia, alert the local police. Tell them to get to St Theresa's." His eyes swept through the team. "Alright, let's go. We don't have any time to waste."

When they left as fast as they possibly could Aaron hoped from the bottom of his heart and soul that this wouldn't turn out to be a disaster. That he hadn't just made a huge mistake.

There was absolutely no way someone like Foyet would've made a mistake when spilling his location. He wanted to be found, and for now Aaron could only wonder why. He sincerily hoped none of the dark thoughts nagging in the back of his head were correct. Seeing this nightmare change into a tragedy would be too much.

* * *

><p>In the meantime Derek sat in one of the apartments he owned, with only a tiny table lamp providing him light. He ignored his cell phone as it buzzed on the table for the about a hundredth time, instead inched his hand towards his gun.<p>

He'd barely been in this apartment since first buying it, mostly because other things had kept him occupied for a while now. But then he ran into one of his tenants, Catherine, how complimented the nice young woman who'd visited her. Catherine asked if Ellie had settled in well, if she'd had any problems with the apartment.

Derek was almost sure his heart stopped for a second.

Since coming up with this plan he'd known that he wouldn't be able to put it into action alone. He'd also known that he couldn't ask for his team's help. That's why Elle Greenaway was his only resort.

Tonight it was all coming down.

He just hoped this wouldn't turn out to be a total disaster.

"_Morgan, listen to me carefully._" Elle's voice was tight and sharp through his carefully hidden earpiece. "Lobo _is in position and says he saw a light there, two seconds before you entered._"

Chills ran through Derek. He felt his pupils dilate.

Ellie… She was already in the apartment. He didn't know how the hell that was possible when he'd secured the apartment on arrival but she was. She'd been there all along. He wondered if she was looking at him at that very moment.

His hand twitched while his eyes darted around. Suddenly the shadows around him were even more threatening than before.

"_You need to be careful._" Like Elle would've needed to tell him that. "_We don't know what she's going to do. We're offering you cover but there's only so much we can do._"

At first it was nothing but a hunch. A breath in the air. The faintest scent.

Derek didn't have the time to catch his breath before there was the sound of a door opening. The bedroom's door was opening even further.

The voice he heard next wasn't Elle's. "I assume you've been looking for me?"

Derek didn't even hear the warnings Elle was shouting at him. All he could see was the girl stood before him. Ellie smiled.

* * *

><p>Spencer had absolutely no idea of how long it was from when Foyet took him. In his opinion it could've been years. During that time it seemed only oblivion offered him some sort of relief. If he was particularly lucky he dreamt of Derek.<p>

That day – or was it night? – Derek's voice mixed with Foyet's. He couldn't tell for sure whose hand caressed his hair and cheek. "_Open your eyes, Spencer._"

He obeyed, for he already knew that there wasn't any real choice. It took a while before the blurry figure kneeled before him cleared enough to allow him to recognize Foyet.

Foyet's eyes were unreadable. "I really wish it hadn't come to this. I enjoyed the time with you, you see? People like you are one in a million." The serial killer kissed his forehead. "But don't worry. I'll make sure your sacrifice counts."

Spencer's eyes widened when the other man pulled out a knife. It took only a flash before his brain made all the necessary connections. "No…!" he breathed out, staring at the man who not too long ago sneaked into his bedroom like it'd been the other man's own. Those same hands that caressed him back then now threatened his very life. He spoke, whispered, although he could barely breathe. "George… Don't." He twisted his wrists but only managed to make them sore. "You've still got a choice."

Foyet's eyes actually narrowed at that. "Do you think that I _want to_ kill you? That I'd do this if I had any other choice?"

Spencer barely noticed the tears streaming down his face. He gasped twice before managing to form barely audible words. "Promise me… Promise me that you won't hurt him. Please."

"Shh…", Foyet adviced, pressing a nearly tender finger to his lips. "I promise, alright? I promise." The man's voice wasn't as steady as it should've been. What he saw in those eyes… He couldn't even begin to describe it. "Just relax and it'll all go much more smoothly. Relax and breathe."

The moment the knife came down Spencer lost absolutely all control over himself. Tears filled his eyes all over again while he screamed at the top of his lungs.

"Derek!"

* * *

><p>For a while Derek and Ellie simply measured up one another, standing in opposite corners of the room like two boxers preparing themselves for a match. Looking into Ellie's eyes Derek felt shivers go through his body.<p>

Those weren't the eyes he remembered, the ones that'd been haunting his nightmares.

In a moment Ellie's face gained a strange, blank look. "I was already afraid you wouldn't come after all." She sat down to a nearby couch almost calmly, crossing her legs. "I assume you want to talk about your… friend, Spencer."

Something inside Derek shifted uncomfortably. He swallowed. "Is he alright?"

Ellie nodded. "For now. But your team's on the way there. Who knows how that will turn out." Her eyes flashed. "He wouldn't be the first person you've failed."

That hurt, a lot. Derek's eyes narrowed.

"_Calm down_", Elle's voice commanded through the earpiece that was starting to hurt Derek's ear. "_You need to buy us a few more moments._"

Derek gritted his teeth, feeling more torn than ever in his life. "I tried as hard as I could, Ellie. I swear. I would've _never_ given up if I'd known you were still alive." His heartbeat increased while thoughts of losing her _and_ Spencer began to take over. "I'm still not giving up."

Ellie gave a dark, humourless chuckle, leaning back. "Are you still trying to save me, Derek? Do you honestly think that you can still pull me back?" When her hand moved all he could see were the scars on it. "It's too late to make amends, now."

"_We'll reach the apartment in twenty seconds, so be ready_", Elle announced. "Lobo _has a clear shot, just in case_."

Derek knew it was against all reason. But as he looked at the damned, wounded creature before him a part of him wanted to cry. His heart cracked in his chest. "Please." He was practically pleading but he didn't care. If there was a way, any way, to save this life… "Let me help you." One of his hands, however, seemed to understand for it was already moving.

For a moment, two, three Ellie simply stared at him with eyes he couldn't read. And then her face twisted into a tiny, crooked grin. "Goodbye, Derek." In a flash she was up, both of her hands moving. It coaxed his hand into moving faster in response.

A gunshot echoed.

The apartment's door was taken down.

A bullet pierced glass.

* * *

><p>As it turned out Aaron's team made it to the church much before the police. They couldn't wait, not when they finally had the chance to catch a serial killer who'd been hunted down for ages. Not when they had the chance to save a life.<p>

The basement was utterly, deathly quiet while Aaron, David, Emily and William made their way through, trying not to cough or gag while this indescribable, horrendous stench sneaked its way into the cores of their beings.

It was the smell of death.

It was the smell of Foyet.

They were close.

All of a sudden Aaron lifted a hand, then pointed towards the ceiling. Looking up they all noticed the same thing. A surveillance camera.

So much for slipping in unnoticed.

And then they heard the sound. A series of steady, metallic thuds. Like a some sort of a sick version of a hearbeat.

They looked at each other, all attention locking on Aaron. The unit chief's eyes narrowed while the man went through a inner debate, then nodded. In his eyes lingered a prayer that he hadn't just made a huge mistake.

They'd agreed to go together, to not separate under any circumstances. They shouldn't have expected that much of a worried father.

The rest of the team wasn't fast enough to react when William broke into a run, his gun already prepared. He kept running, ignoring the snarl telling him to stop, until the sight unfolding before his eyes made him freeze entirely.

There, in a large room that had barely any light and no furniture, stood Foyet. William didn't even notice the gun in the killer's hand, or the knife that'd been tossed to the floor. All he saw was the blood all over Foyet's clothes, the blood staining the floor like a sickening carpet.

"Did you know that he was the one and only person I was never supposed to harm? He was never supposed to become a part of this." Foyet's eyes were those of a wounded beast. "I told you, William. You really should've made that deal."

Disbelief, rage and grief swell until they boiled over inside William, for a couple of seconds paralyzing him with their intensity. He never even noticed the sounds of the team coming closer and closer until they were already in the room.

And then all control was lost.

"Foyet, put the gun down, now!"

"William, don't!"

In a couple of seconds a gunshot echoed through the gloomy, isolated space.

* * *

><p>TBC, right?<p>

* * *

><p>AN: Oh boy…! (winces) My head's spinning right now. And you're seriously going to kill me for that one, aren't you?

Ya know there's only one way to let me know how you're feeling. **PLEASE**, leave review! It'd seriously make my day. Pwease…?

At this point I've got a raw version of the pretty much rest of the story written, so I think I'll manage to keep up pretty fast updates. How does that sound?

IN THE NEXT ONE: In the darkest of all hours those still standing fight desperately to save what there's still left. Is it too late already? One person makes a decision that may lead to a disaster. The story continues in 'To Hell…'.

Until next time! 'Hope I'll see ya all then.

Peace out!

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><p><strong>ilsa<strong>: Unfortunately, it was. (winces) It can only be guessed what happens next…

Huge thank yous for the review!

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><p><strong>Mariel<strong>: My goodness…! (grins from ear to ear and blushes) I can't believe you've actually enjoyed the story THAT much! I can't even describe how much it means to me.

I really hope the rest pleases you as much.

Massive thank yous for the review!

* * *

><p><strong>Reidland<strong>: Oh mine…! (chuckles) Thank goodness the next chapter was up this fast, then.

We'll see what happens next, now the Elle's showed up. Let's just hope that our boys will get absolutely all the happiness they deserve – and that this nightmare's brought to an end before it's too late…

Colossal thank yous for the review!


	17. To Hell…

A/N: Tadaa! The new chapter is already here. (grins) (Be that a good thing or bad…)

THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart, for all those reviews! It's clear that there are people out there who love this story. You can't even imagine how much that means to me. So thank you! (hugs)

Awkay… (takes a breath) Let's get going, no? I truly hope this one won't disappoint you.

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><p>To Hell…<p>

* * *

><p>At the end of it all Aaron could only stare at the pool of blood on the floor.<p>

There was no Foyet. However the screams seemed to echo in the walls, no matter how much he tried to tell himself that he was imagining things. Aaron was fairly sure that he'd never get rid of the stench of blood and death.

They'd been damn lucky that Emily had been fast enough and tackled Foyet to the floor before it'd been too late, that Foyet's bullet had missed its target. Spencer… had not been as lucky.

Still staring at the blood, Aaron couldn't keep himself from imagining what exactly happened before they came. He imagined although he would've been much happier not knowing. Just like he was powerless against the thought that if they'd arrived just some short hours or minutes earlier…

He glanced to side upon hearing steps. David stood beside him, the older man's expression mirroring his. "Have they found Spencer yet?" he inquired.

David shook his head, also staring at the blood. "According to the forensics we shouldn't expect them to find anyone alive. Even if he'd survived from the immediate attack…" The older man trailed off, appearing physically ill.

Aaron shuddered despite himself, his eyes stinging. He tried to tell himself that it was because of all the dust, because of the smell hanging in the air.

The first sound that broke through the absolute silence that followed was that of his cell phone ringing. He frowned upon discovering that the caller was Penelope. "What is it?"

"_You told me to trace Morgan._" The blonde sounded teary and terrified, so unlike herself that it scared him. "_I… I found him._"

* * *

><p>The apartment was rather dark and deadly silent as officer Lucas DeMarco from Quantico P.D. searched through, only thirty-two-years old eyes that'd already seen all taking in everything without a hint of hurt or shock.<p>

The mess.

The fired bullet.

The tiny hole on the wall that had another bullet in it.

The small amount blood.

Neighbors had called 911 upon hearing gunshots. In an instant it'd been revealed that the apartment was owned by a FBI-agent. By the time DeMarco's team made it to the scene the man lay on the floor, unconscious. There wasn't a trace of the attacker.

DeMarco's eyes shifted barely noticeably when his partner, Lucia Williams, stood beside him. Her blue eyes were dark and thoughtful. "He was taken to a hospital. They'll let us know as soon as there's development." In their world that meant the man would either be dead or able to answer their questions. DeMarco sincerily hoped it to be the latter. There was no way he'd be able to understand this whole circus without the agent's help.

He nodded stiffly. "Good." His accent was thick, as it always was when he sank too deep into his thoughts to control it. He didn't give a damn.

That's when DeMarco saw something that caught all his attention. He frowned.

On the floor lay a golden medal that had the picture of a Phoenix bird on it, along with letters. DeMarco recognized the item so clearly that it brought chills all the way through him.

'_Desert Coyotees_' was the organization's name translated in English. It was a criminal organization that was active at least in Tijuana and Loreto, specialized in drugs. DeMarco had heard whispers of it when he still worked in La Paz. Not much was known about the organization simply because the members were quick to silence anyone who might endanger them. All they respected was family. It was like a nasty invasion of crickets – effective, ruthless and destructive.

If that organization was actually real and not just a rumor, what the hell was it doing in Quantico? What happened in this apartment?

DeMarco and Williams looked at each other.

Whatever went down here was something they'd probably never hear the full truth of.

They both looked back in alarm upon hearing steps. In came Nick Silias, their twenty-five year old rookie who always had a slightly scared look in his green eyes. At the moment the young man's face radiated excitement. "According to the neighbors there were at least two women here. One's description matches with Ellie Spicer's. They couldn't tell what happened to her, though."

DeMarco nodded, something swirling in his stomach as always when he was close to a breakthrough at work. "What about the other woman?"

Silias appeared slightly apologetic. "They couldn't tell as much. She was in her late thirties. Black hair, brown eyes. Pretty, looked like a latino. There was a lot of Spanish spoken." The young man actually grinned, which was a clear sign that something big had been spotted. "There's a lot of fingerprints. It's a almost sure thing that the mystery woman can be identified."

It was merciful, perhaps, that Silias didn't know that the woman would never, ever be identified as Elle Greenaway.

After all, she was nothing but a ghost anymore.

It was the first and last sign of '_the coyotees_' on American soil.

* * *

><p>The very first thing that registered to Derek as he opened his eyes was pain. It swell and pulsated inside his head like wanting to tear his skull to pieces, sending electric jolts all over his body. He shifted with discomfort, desperately trying to understand what was going on.<p>

Why the hell were the bright lights on?

What happened?

Just then, like hearing his unvoiced question – he hadn't said anything, had he? – a very young woman dressed into a nurse's outfit appeared to his line of vision. She'd pulled her long, curly chestnut-colored hair to a ponytail that slipped to her shoulder when she leaned closer to him. She wasn't smiling but the look in her brown eyes calmed him down instantly. 'Belle' her nametag said. He wondered how much it should've unnerved him that he could only hear bits and pieces of her speech. "… alright, agent …gan. … head. … ficulties with hearing for while."

Derek stared at her hard, demanding explanations. Before he could ever try voicing anything, though, the nurse apparently heard something and looked towards room's the door. For a moment there was a frown on her face.

Alarmed, Derek looked towards the same direction. He felt chills upon discovering Aaron stood by the doorway. The look on the unit chief's face promised nothing good.

Belle seemed to realize that this was her cue to leave. She cleared her throat, then headed towards the door with a tiny smile for him. "'all me if you need 'ything."

Derek nodded, trying to smile back and failing miserably. "I will."

Aaron went to business as soon as they were alone. "You… 'fter Ellie Spicer alone, 'rgan. Unauthorized."

Derek shrugged, his throat unnaturally dry. "She was in my aparment, Hotch. _I _wasn't the one who went after _her_." He could only guess how clear the actual voiced words were.

Aaron didn't seem impressed. The unit chief's voice sounded off but at least now he heard a bit more clearly, whether he wanted to or not. "… found two bullets from different guns, neither was yours." The older man gritted his teeth hard. "'know what happened but you have… explaining to do. Two officers… want to talk to you. I only managed to buy you… time with saying you're still unconscious."

Derek nodded, hoping that it was enough of a thank you for now. He didn't really manage to care about what would happen to him. His head was killing him.

It took a moment before Aaron spoke. "How's Elle?"

Derek shuddered, not having expected the question. He licked his lips, glancing towards the window for a second. "She's… alive." Deciding to change the subject before it'd become too dangerous he looked towards his boss. He'd never seen Aaron look so tired and throughoutly worn. His eyes narrowed while worry swell. "I'm the one in the hospital." He had to clear his throat. "Why do you look worse than I do?"

Aaron looked at him directly to his eyes, then blurted out the words like they'd been the easiest in the world. This time he heard every word. "Ellie Spicer is still missing but we caught Foyet."

The shock alone was enough to send Derek's still ailing body into a state of complete chaos. His eyes widened dramatically and his aching head was sent spinning. His hands shook while he balled them. His heart was beating so fast that he feared it might give out completely.

Foyet… If the bastard had been caught, then surely…

Spencer…

Derek never got the chance to ask, to try and find some peace of mind. Because just then the headache became even worse and he couldn't even think. There was incomprehensible shouting, people bursting into the room, then even more pain. Until suddenly there was absolutely nothing at all.

The last thing Derek saw before oblivion was a crystal clear flash of Spencer's face.

* * *

><p>Whether it was because of lack of courage or chances, William Reid never told his son that Diana's illness wasn't the only reason he left his family. As much as his wife fought the monsters inside her head so did he. In the end William decided that watching one battle was enough for his son.<p>

Staring at the glass of whiskey in front of him William shook, feeling so much at one go that he just couldn't process it all.

His eyes were nearly glazed over while he looked around the tiny, filthy bar, wondering how long he'd been there. He wasn't even sure how he got there. The last clear memory in his head was of him being far from kindly told to go home, to step away until his actions during Foyet's arrest had been investigated properly.

He'd almost fucking died only hours ago. Now he didn't have a clue of where his son was. He didn't even know if Spencer was alive. And he wasn't allowed to do a thing about it.

It was almost ten years from his last drink. He'd never felt this thirsty in his whole life.

"Hey, buddy?" He was startled by the bartender's – a surprisingly kind looking middle aged, bald man's – voice. The man was looking at him with open pity he might've loathed in some other situation. The bartender's eyes flickered on his drink, then rose back to him. "Want me to make that one a double?"

Swallowing thickly, William realized that he had exactly two options. And at that very moment he could've sworn that Spencer was right there with him, looking at him. It made the decision much easier than he could've ever imagined.

William shook his head, feeling lightheaded and sick to his stomach. "No thanks." Ignoring the weird look the bartender gave him he paid for the untouched drink and bolted out, all too aware of the fire burning absolutely everywhere inside him, screaming at him to go back.

William walked through the unfamiliar city's streets aimlessly, feeling so throughoutly lost that it scared him. He walked for what felt like miles, never even noticing the pouring rain, until he froze all of a sudden.

Right before his eyes was a beautiful, most likely old chapel.

'_Fiat Lux_', had been engraved to the wood of the door.

William didn't have a clue of what he was doing. But his body seemed to know. He made his way to the door and yanked it open with what felt like the last of his strength, then took a step inside.

The chapel was tiny and very beautiful. Only candles provided it light. Aside William only one nun was present, deeply focused on a prayer. Something about the place calmed him down a little bit, invited him further. Still uncertain he walked on, in the end sliding to one of the chapel's ten long benches.

William hadn't prayed in years. But right there and then, before the picture of Mary and Joseph holding baby Jesus, he bowed his head and crossed his fingers.

* * *

><p>When Derek opened his eyes again Emily was sitting beside his bed instead of Aaron. There was a far too solemn look on her pale face.<p>

She tried to smile at him. "Hey. I'm not sure if you remember but you woke up a couple of hours ago. You weren't exactly… coherent back then." She offered him a huge plastic mug full of water. "Feeling any better?"

Derek nodded, then drank gratefully and swallowed, forcing himself into a proper sitting position although his head didn't appreciate the effort. "Anything?"

Emily sighed, visibly wondering how much she should reveal. "Foyet… hasn't talked much, yet." She brought up a hand to straighten her hair. Her fingernails had been bitten recently. "There's… a lot of people looking for Spencer. So far they've found nothing but blood."

Those words felt worse than any punch. Derek's eyes actually watered from the pain. "But he's still alive." It was more than just a statement – it was a desperate plea.

Emily swallowed loudly, a look he'd never seen before in her eyes. "Morgan…"

"He's still alive, Prentiss." Derek didn't give a damn if he was screaming. Why wouldn't she believe him? Why wouldn't she believe in Spencer? "He's… He's still alive! And I won't just lay down and wait until I've found him!"

Emily sighed, appearing very tired all of a sudden. "I know you won't." There was a torn look in her eyes and suddenly he felt a hint of guilt for yelling at her. It was deviously easy to forget that he wasn't the only person Spencer had formed a bond with. She went on after a long, thoughtful pause, clearly careful with her words. "But… You need to prepare yourself for the possibility that what we find may not be what we're all hoping for."

Something about those words screamed out a warning. Derek frowned, the flames of anger turning into smouldering fear. "Prentiss, what the hell is going on?"

Emily swallowed and hesitated, looked into his eyes, until she seemed to come to a decision that there was no way she could keep this from him. "Foyet… Since we found him he's been telling us that Spencer is already dead. The amount of blood we found upon arresting Foyet supports that theory."

Derek felt dizzy and so sick to his stomach that he feared he might throw up right there and then. He kept waiting for waking up from this horrible dream but nothing such ever happened. Emily was still sitting there, looking at him with those incredibly sad eyes.

There was no hope. Nothing but the absolute, foolish resolve in Derek's heart.

Emily's hand reached out towards him. He dodged. "Morgan…"

Derek didn't reply, instead focused his attention on the window. Outside rain was falling, hard and merciless.

Derek bit his teeth together until he tasted blood.

It didn't matter what he'd have to do. He _would_ find Spencer. There was no way in hell he'd let go of the best thing that'd ever found its way into his life, even if everyone else had given up.

An hour later, convinced that Derek was asleep, Emily left to get some coffee and update Aaron. When she came back the room was empty.

* * *

><p>The interrogation room was suffocatingly hot as unit chief Aaron Hotchner stared unblinkedly at the man sitting on the opposite side of the table. "I'm asking you again. After that you will be offered no chance for a deal of any sort. If you don't help us now I won't be able to help you, either", he announced in a tone that would've chilled just about anyone's spine. His eyes changed, became those of the dangerous vulture. "Where is he?"<p>

George Foyet's eyes finally met his. There was amusement, almost mockery, in them. "Do you believe that you can still win this game, agent?"

Aaron squeezed the edges of the table so hard that his knuckles turned white. Fire burned in his veins, and he had to remind himself that he couldn't give the other man the pleasure of him losing his composure. Nothing changed on his face as he spoke again, his tone eerily calm. "Once more. Where is he?"

Foyet smiled, revealing a row of white teeth, then leaned closer to him as though about to trust him with a great secret. "Aaron, I'm sure you're familiar with my history. Do you honestly think you're going to find him alive?"

For a couple of moments Aaron simply stared at the monster before him. Then he did the only thing he could under the circumstances.

He got up, turned around and left the room, his steps betraying nothing of the inferno rising inside him. The interrogation room's door made a hollow sound when closing behind him.

The first person he saw outside the room was Derek.

The dark skinned man stood directly behind the window separating him from Foyet, appearing fully ready to tear the killer into pieces. Dark flames burned in the agent's eyes while a haunted look lingered on his face.

Aaron sighed, taking a step closer to the other man. It'd been a long, nightmarish day. This most definitely wasn't something he would've been willing to deal with. "Morgan…"

"Let me in."

Aaron folded his arms. "You know I can't do that. There's no telling what you'd do to him if you'd get into the same room."

Derek's eyes narrowed. "I'd be able to make him talk."

Aaron's eyebrow arched. "How?"

They stared at each other for the longest time, two alpha males of which neither was willing to give in an inch. And then Aaron's cell phone started ringing.

He picked up with sheer reluctance. "Agent Hotchner."

"_It's me._" Emily's voice was a lot shakier than normal. He heard her swallow hard. "_There's… something you should see, right now. Don't bring Morgan with you._"

Cold shivers traveled through him and he tried hard not to look towards the dark skinned man. "Alright." He cleared his throat. "I'll be there in a second." Hanging up, he was glad to discover that it looked like Derek hadn't even listened to the phone call. The man's eyes were locked on Foyet, hungry for blood. He put a hand on Derek's shoulder, knowing full well the risks of receiving a violent reaction. This agent Morgan wasn't the one he'd known and worked with for years. "Morgan." His tone was hard, authoritative. It succeeded in making the said man look at him. "We're going, _now_. Before you end up doing something neither of us is able to repair."

Derek's jaw twitched. It took a while before any sound came. "Fine."

Later Aaron would blame himself for trusting the dark skinned man's reason too much, for failing to profile a member of his team. For as they left the room he should've known to expect that Derek would go back.

* * *

><p>While Aaron headed off to meet Emily to find out if anything new had been discovered Derek made his way to the building's restroom. Once there he stared at his reflection from the mirror for the longest time, almost scared by the amount of sheer rage that flickered in his eyes.<p>

Spencer's voice echoed inside his head.

/ _'5… 83… 191… 307… 431…'_ /

He could still feel Spencer's lips on his.

/ _'You're here. I'm here. We don't need to name it yet.'_ /

He _felt_ Spencer. His promises mixed with the genius' voice.

/ '_I promised, remember? I'm not going to give up.'_ /

/ _'I miss you.'_ /

When Derek left the room shards of glass from the mirror were left as evidence of him being there.

There was a armed security guard stood outside the interrogation room's door when Derek made his way there. "I'm here to interview the suspect", he announced.

The guard, a child faced man who looked barely past his twenties, appeared alarmed, already fumbled for his weapon. The younger man swallowed. "I'm gonna have to take a look at your credentials."

Irritation nearly boiling over Derek did as ordered, receiving a nod of approval from the visibly relieved guard. He felt almost sorry for the kid as he entered the room, bolting the door from the inside. Almost.

As he entered the actual interrogation room and was finally face to face with Foyet Derek didn't have the slightest clue of what he was feeling. Perhaps he felt so much that in the end he became utterly numb.

As though it'd all been just some sort of a nightmare Foyet's head turned. It was then he noticed the bruises on the man's bare arms, along with the split lip. He wondered if the injuries had come during the arrest. Quite fast he decided that he didn't care.

A flash later Foyet saw him. Immediately a chilling smirk appeared. "Well hello, Derek. I've been waiting for you."

* * *

><p>TBC, riiight?<p>

* * *

><p>AN: Oh boy…! (sweatdrops) Those two ending up face to face can't promise anything good. 'Wonder what'll happen next…

**PLEASE,** leave a note before you go! It'd make me high as a kite with happiness. So… Pwease? I've got some Easter goodies as a reward… (winks)

IN THE NEXT ONE: The stakes are high as Morgan confronts Foyet. Is Reid really dead, and if he isn't will they find him alive? With each precious second time keeps slipping away in '… And Back'.

Until next time, everyone! I truly hope you'll all decide to join in then.

Take care!

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><p><strong>Nicolethecrazyone<strong>: Seriously? (beams) That feels incredibly good to hear!

For now all we can do is cross our fingers and hope for the best. It'd be absolutely horrible if things ended badly for those boys, no? (winces)

'Hope you'll keep enjoying the ride.

Gigantic thank yous for the review!

* * *

><p><strong>ilsa<strong>: Technology can be so irritating, no? (groans)

It's been really fascinating to write Foyet's character. Seeing his thoughts and feelings put on words is much more affective than just watching them on screen. I'm glad to hear you've enjoyed that aspect as well. (beams) Characterization is something I ALWAYS work hard on, so I'm flattered to hear you think I've succeeded.

I truly hope the rest won't fall flat, either.

Colossal thank yous for the review!

* * *

><p><strong>Katsakura<strong>: Poor Spencer, no? And Derek, too. (sighs)

We'll see exactly what's happened. All we can do right now is hope that for once Foyet had at least an ounce of humanity and affection inside him. It's Spencer's only hope.

Mega sized thank yous for the review!

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><p><strong>Reidland<strong>: So many questions left unanswered, no? The story's coming to an end soon. We'll see how everything falls into place… (shudders)

'Hope the next one pleases you as well.

Huge thank yous for the review!


	18. … And Back

A/N: I'm so sorry that it took me a while to update but I've been insanely busy lately. (winces)

First off, of course… Thank you so much for all those reviews! They really do mean a lot to me. (beams and HUGS) I hope you won't give up on this now that we're so close to the end.

Aaaalrighty. (takes a deep breath) I really hope this turns out worth the wait!

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><p>… And Back<p>

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><p>As soon as Emily showed Aaron what the team investigating the chuch had found he understood why she'd told him not to bring Derek with him to see it.<p>

It was a letter from Spencer, stained by blood.

"I think Foyet made him write it." Emily's voice sounded strangled, like there'd been something stuck in her throat. Her eyes were suspiciously moist. "It was his way to make Spencer say goodbye."

Aaron read it through although it was quite possibly one of the hardest things he'd ever done in his life. He read on, desperately trying to close his mind from the emotions it aroused inside him. Desperately trying to shield himself against the despair and sadness in those words.

Once he was done Aaron took a long moment before looking at Emily once more. He swallowed. "Whatever happens… We can't show this to William and Morgan." Foyet had already caused more than enough pain. If there was a way to avoid more of it…

Emily nodded, wiping her seemingly dry eyes.

Aaron barely had the time to hide the letter before the door of his office was thrown open. There was a look of pure terror on Penelope's face. "Morgan… He made it to the interrogation room. It's not looking good."

Aaron's whole body turned incredibly cold as the three of them sprinted to a desperate run, hoping and praying that they weren't too late.

The letter was forgotten to his desk, into a darkness to which only a tiny lamp provided light.

* * *

><p>George Foyet had always been convinced that on some level people know when their time is coming to an end. He most certainly knew when he opened his eyes that morning and surprisingly it didn't bother him. He'd had plenty of time to finish his work. The only thing he was disappointed with was that he didn't get the chance to see it all come down.<p>

Watching how Derek turned the interrogation room's camera so that they wouldn't be seen, Foyet knew that his time was running out.

"I'm giving you one chance to tell me where he is. Only one." Derek's voice shook and the man's eyes were _screaming_. The steps approaching him were those of a attacking wild beast. "After that… I'm going to beat the answer out of you."

Foyet tilted his head, something he couldn't quite understand flickering in his chest. "You really do love him, don't you?"

Derek's eyes narrowed, became something dangerous as the animal inside the man was unleashed. "Where… is… he?"

Outside the room shouts and hassle could be heard. Someone tried to open the door, only to discover that it'd been bolted. They'd never get in before it would be too late.

Foyet felt perfectly calm. He even smiled, meeting Derek's eyes. It was almost a relief that it would all be over soon. "Do you know what was the last thing he ever said, Derek?" He held a pause, watched as realization dawned on the agent long before the actual words. Watched the flames burning the other man alive. "He begged for your life, for your safety. He cried out to you."

It came so fast that he had no chance to prepare himself. Derek kicked and the chair went down, making Foyet collide with the floor so hard that he lost his breath. A gun was pointed directly at his head, only an inch away from skin. Derek's eyes were not human anymore.

One.

There were shouts through the bolted door, calling out to Derek.

Two.

Derek's finger tightened on the trigger. The agent's breathing pattern changed.

Three.

"_Derek!_"

The gun was pulled away, holstered. Instead Derek grabbed one of Foyet's ankles, twisting so hard that he winced. Just a little bit more and…

He couldn't recognize or read the eyes meeting his anymore. "There's dirt on your shoes", Derek observed in a deviously calm voice. "You took him outside, didn't you?"

Foyet smiled once more despite the pain. "I already told William that Spencer would be laid to rest next to his uncle." He knew Derek had studied all the details carefully, pulled out every last bit. The agent would figure it out.

For several endless moments Derek simply stared at him with wide, wild eyes, understanding sinking in like acid. And then the chair was yanked up, with such speed that it made Foyet dizzy. He winced a little at the pain radiating from his cuffed wrists as they protested against the harsh motions.

Derek stared at him unblinkedly, then took a step away. "I'm letting you live, knowing that it's on a whim. Knowing that you lost this game. Because I'm going to save him. And you'll spend the rest of your miserable life locked up into a cell." With those words the agent left the room.

Foyet glanced towards the clock hanging on the room's wall, still calm. Seconds ticked by.

He wondered if he should've told Derek that if it wasn't by some miracle, it was already much too late for Spencer. He also wondered how a victory could possibly taste this bitter.

The second Derek made it out of the interrogation room the door leading to the small space before it gave way. His entire team was there, looking at him with eyes that had the question loud and clear in them.

Adrenaline made Derek's head spin and his heart hammered furiously. "I know where Spencer is", he blurted out. "We've gotta get going, _now_."

* * *

><p>Lying in a pool of her own blood, knowing full well that she was dying, Ellie Spicer got lost into her favorite memory.<p>

When she was a child her dad took her to a beach far past her bedtime. She was too young and excited to notice the dark circles around his eyes, to notice that his eyes were red and puffy. They lay on cool sand, side by side with her held in her dad's secure embrace, looking at the stars that seemed unnaturally bright.

Ellie smiled, back then. '_They're pretty_', she half-whispered with child's sheer honesty.

Her dad smiled as well. '_And you know what's the best part? There's one up there for every single one of us._' He caressed her hair with one hand. '_No matter how lost you feel you can always look up into them and find the answers. And whatever happens… I'll always be right up there, looking at you._'

Ellie looked at him, very serious all of a sudden although she was much too young to understand the real meaning of his words. '_Promise me, daddy?_'

He nodded, also serious. '_Yeah, sweetie. I promise._' Five days later he was dead.

It was just dark enough for some of the stars to be seen and Ellie found herself staring at them, long since free of the pain and cold that'd been ravishing her body.

She wondered if her dad was true to his word now – he'd always been before. She wondered if he really was up there, looking at her. She wondered what he thought of her now.

Maybe that was why it was raining. Perhaps he was crying over her. In the moments she suspected to be her last she regretted making him so very sad.

For a moment she toyed with imagining that she actually had options left, despite the five gunshot wounds on her body.

To live, and be locked up for the rest of her life? Because there was no way she'd ever manage to escape now. Or to die and face the horrors of hell?

It was a 'lose or lose', really.

There, on the edge of losing herself into the dark that was calling out to her, she heard a voice all of a sudden. Never even realizing that she'd closed her eyes she opened them to see the very same woman who put her into this situation.

There was her blood all over Elle Greenaway's clothes when the older woman looked at her with sad eyes. "Morgan asked me not to kill you so I tried not to although you'd deserve it. It might even be merciful." The woman put away her gun, eyes still firmly on her. "Trust someone who's been there. For your own sake, I hope that one day you'll be able to understand how lucky you are to have someone who won't give up on you, no matter what. If you don't these shadows will swallow you up in whole. The choice is in your hands."

Just then sounds of sirens could be heard, swallowing the tiny snort Ellie emitted. Elle gave her a one last look before getting up and disappearing like a ghost.

Left there all alone Ellie looked up to the sky once more, ignoring the rain that hurt her eyes. And for the first time since her childhood she felt free.

She closed her eyes and let herself float away.

* * *

><p>As soon as the team made it to the church Derek was running, not wasting time to tell those still investigating the building what was going on. He headed straight to the cemetery like there'd been fire on his tails, rushing towards a tiny mausoleum that had a small angel kneeled into a prayer on top of it.<p>

He didn't know what it was leading him – despair, a hunch, hope. It didn't even matter at the moment. All that mattered was reaching his destination before it'd be too late.

Derek nearly burst into tears of relief as soon as he saw the name engraved just above the mausoleum's door.

'_Daniel Reid_'.

He eyed on the door frantically, only to discover that it'd been sealed recently.

Frustration rushing through him like lava he banged on the door. "Spencer?" Of course he should've known not to expect a reply but it still chilled him to the bone when there was absolutely nothing. He didn't spare the rest of the team a glance when they finally reached him, instead banged on the door again. "Spencer! Hang on! We're coming! Just hang in there!"

"I spoke to the team investigating the church", Aaron announced quietly. "They'll bring the necessary equipment as soon as they can. Then we'll get in."

Derek didn't hear the unit chief, instead let his horrified eyes scan through the mausoleum. There were plenty of tiny airholes. Spencer wouldn't be suffering from lack of oxygen. But with his injuries…

Gasping, only then realizing that he'd been holding his breath, Derek let his eyes stray towards the stone floor beneath his feet. His heart skipped a beat.

There were several droplets of blood. The ceiling had managed to keep them from being swept away by rain but they shimmered ominously on the humid suface. Like fate had whispered '_You're too late_'.

Derek's eyes narrowed while they rose once more, only sheer willpower keeping them from filling with tears. He stared at the door that was the only thing keeping him from getting to Spencer. In a flash all control vanished.

"Morgan, what are you doing?" Emily demanded with slightly widened eyes when he took a step closer to the door, then delivered the first kick.

The whole door shuddered. Derek's eyes flashed.

Obviously it wasn't sealed as tightly as he'd first feared. The mental image of Spencer's face coaxed him forward.

Derek kicked and kicked, ignoring the pain it brought, ignoring the fact that bones were almost fractured. He never even noticed that he was screaming Spencer's name until he lost his voice almost completely.

Tears blurring his eyes he kept kicking, firmly pushing away those trying to make him stop, deaf to voices of reason. And when kicks wouldn't do he threw in punches, to a point where his blood stained the door.

Then, so unexpectedly that Derek stumbled a step backwards, the seal was broken with a loud, deep moan.

The door slid open.

There was no power in the universe that would've kept Derek from barging in at that very moment. And in a flash he was already there, facing the gruesome sight that finally made tears fill his rapidly widening eyes.

There, right beside the stone made coffin where Daniel had been buried under a impossibly heavy lid, lay Spencer. There wasn't a lot of blood on the floor, but Spencer's clothes… They were completely stained in red. Derek didn't dare to even guess how many stab wounds there were all over the man's tall, slim frame. Spencer's face held a unhealthy, almost greyish shade of pale while the younger man lay there with his eyes closed. It was impossible to tell if the genius was even breathing.

Once again Derek was moving, didn't even notice the masses of pain that waved through him when he crashed on his knees beside Spencer. His hands were shaking while he caressed the younger man's hair and face, eventually realized to search for a pulse. He actually cried out when there was one although it felt frail under his fingertips. At the moment it didn't matter to him how much audience he had, how many pairs of eyes saw him cracking. Only one person mattered.

Spencer was struggling but at least breathing. Spencer was still alive, hanging on. And then, against all odds, the younger man's eyes fluttered open. At first there was a heartbreaking, spaced out look of pain in them but eventually they recognized him. Derek didn't think he'd ever seen anything as beautiful as the look that appeared to Spencer's eyes just then.

Derek couldn't keep himself from smiling through the tears once again filling his eyes. "I promised, didn't I?" he whispered so that only Spencer heard. He took the younger man's uninjured hand, trying not to stare at the missing finger on the other one, and held on with all his might. "I'm here. So hang on, okay? Hang on."

It clearly took absolutely every ounce of Spencer's strength but eventually the man's fingers curled around his.

Not another word was needed.

And then the moment was over. Paramedics arrived with shouts and loud clattering. Fortunately Aaron gave them all the necessary information so he didn't have to. "The patient's name is Spencer Reid. He's been stabbed – we don't know how many times. He's lost a lot of blood."

Derek felt a sharp jolt of terror when Spencer's eyes closed but the younger man's squeeze never faltered.

And then the paramedics were pulling him away.

Derek's eyes flashed while he struggled against the hands pushing him further. "No! I'm not leaving him! I… I promised him…!" His voice, already strained too far, faded away.

One of the medics, a gentle looking woman in her fifties with bushy black hair and blue eyes, gave him a look of sympathy. "I understand that you want to be there for him but you need to let us treat him, alright? We'll take care of him, I promise."

Derek nodded, stumbling back although it was the absolutely last thing he wanted to do. Only Emily's hand on his shoulder gave him some comfort.

It all happened in blur, so fast that Derek couldn't even process it. One second Spencer lay on the floor, the next the brunet was rushed away with the medics spouting out words he couldn't understand. Derek moved to follow but the same female paramedic who'd spoken before stopped him. "I'm sorry, but we need all the room we can get, just in case." Her eyes were full of sympathy but Derek didn't even notice. He couldn't consider them kind anymore.

And then Spencer was gone. Derek had never felt so cold in his entire life.

"C'mon", Emily whispered, squeezing his shoulder. "I'm taking you to the hospital."

Derek nodded, following her numbly. All he could feel was Spencer's hand holding his, the sheer determination in that squeeze.

Spencer… He was hanging on so tightly. There was no way he'd let go now.

Right?

* * *

><p>TBC, for a lil' bit more.<p>

* * *

><p>AN: Oh boy… (wipes forehead) At least he's been found, but we're not out of the woods just yet. Nothing's certain until 'the end'.

**PLEASE**, leave a review and let me know your thoughts! It'd make my day, especially now that the story's almost over. (gives puppy's eyes) Pwease…?

IN THE NEXT ONE: As Morgan waits for news on Reid, Foyet's decision leads to a dramatic collision with William Reid. The story almost reaches its end in 'Coda'.

ONLY ONE CHAPTER AND AN EPILOGUE LEFT, FOLKS!

I really hope I'll c ya all next time.

Take care!

**HAVE GREAT HOLIDAYS, EVERYONE!**


	19. Coda

A/N: Yup, I'm baack. (grins) And for the second last time, can you believe it? (gawks)

BUT, before getting to the (hopefully) good part… THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart, for all your love and support! Take a look at that number of reviews – and there's also a incredible amount of listings. If that isn't caring I don't know what is. (HUGS) So thank you! It feels really good to write knowing there are people eager to read. (beams)

Awkay… (clears throat and gulps nervously) I'm always a little antsy near the end, so I'm just cutting the chase before I chicken out. I truly hope you'll enjoy this new bit!

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><p>Coda<p>

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><p>Since he woke up that morning George Foyet had a feeling that it was his last day on Earth. But that didn't stop him from trying to play with fate.<p>

He got his one and only chance when one of the building's security guards – a young, scared man who was still almost a child – entered the interrogation room. The youth swallowed hard. "I'm… going to escort you to federal prison to wait for your trial. Stand up and keep your hands where I can see them."

Foyet gave a crooked smirk. "Very well, then."

He did get up, even kept his hands in the line of the other man's vision until the guard made it all the way to where he was standing. And then he moved.

While the guard reached out for handcuffs Foyet went for the young man's gun. The guard's mouth opened and face blanched with a horrifying realization but it was much too late from the start.

Foyet smiled, lifting the gun. "Thank you, for this opportunity."

Foyet's hand didn't shake the slightest as he pulled the trigger twice. The first bullet pierced the younger man's windpipe, the next one the man's whole head. It took three seconds before the guard hit the floor.

Feeling only a hint of sympathy for the young man Foyet took the guard's clothes and put them on, his expression never faltering, then walked on with slow, calm steps. He was only two more turns away from the building's exit, from safety, when he took a turn to right – and found himself face to face with William Reid.

For the longest time the two of them looked at each other, as though not really realizing that the other was there.

And then William smiled, in a way that made Foyet feel like he'd been looking into a mirror. "I knew you'd give me the chance to do this", the man hissed.

Foyet's hand moved towards the guard's gun on his belt but he wasn't fast enough against a man who'd been there waiting for him.

Ten gunshots boomed like a thunder, steel pierced the serial killer's flesh. It was the last bullet that was aimed directly between his eyes. The final seal.

Foyet's eyes glazed over, and just like that the life inside him was gone. His body gave a dull thud as he hit the floor.

The clock on the wall hit eleven fifty-nine p.m.

* * *

><p>Derek had hated hospitals since he was a child. But that slowly darkening night he barely realized he was in one as he sat in a waiting room with his team, feeling electric jolts absolutely everywhere in his body. His muscles were so stiff that it was almost impossible to sit down.<p>

What the hell was taking them so long?

Although company was the last thing he wanted Emily's presence gave him a tiny hint of comfort as she took the seat next to his. She sighed heavily, placing a strand of hair behind her ear. "It's been a damn long day." He felt her eyes on him for a second before she spoke quietly. "He'll be alright, you know? It may take a while but he will be."

He looked at her with a frown, irritation rising inside. "How can you know?" he asked a bit more harshly than he'd intended.

To his surprise she smiled. "I saw the look in his eyes when he saw you. When you feel something like that… you can't just let go."

At that moment Derek did something he would've least expected. He smiled back.

They both shuddered upon hearing the room's door open and turned their heads. To Derek's dismay it was just JJ, not Spencer's doctor.

The blonde gave him a weak smile of encouragement before focusing on Aaron. "I couldn't get a hold of William but I left him a message. I think he'll be here soon."

There was a quiet conversation but Derek's ears were deaf to it all. Instead he drowned into himself, into his own thoughts. Once more he could feel Spencer's hand squeezing his, with all there was in the younger man. That hand had been so very cold…

The room's door opened again.

In a flash Derek was up, ignoring the way his head spun from too fast movements. Approaching them was Dr. Violet Shepherd, a young woman with neatly tied red hair and brown eyes. At first there was a unreadable expression on her tired face until she smiled.

Derek felt like he'd been floating in water. Relief and something far beyond overwhelming his exhausted body and soul he slumped back to the chair, filling his gradually relaxing lungs with much needed air.

"Family of Dr. Spencer Reid?"

"I'm his father." It wasn't until then they noticed William Reid who was standing almost directly behind the doctor. The man looked like he'd gone to hell and back again but he stood firm, looking at Dr. Shepherd with demanding eyes before nodding towards the team. "And whatever you have to say, I'm sure they're allowed to hear it as well."

Dr. Shepherd nodded. "For starters, I'd like to say that Dr. Reid is one hell of a fighter. With the blood loss and shock his body could've easily shut down. It's quite clear that he really wanted to stay here."

"So…" Derek barely heard his own voice, let alone recognized it. He gulped laboriously. "He'll… be alright?"

Dr. Shepherd appeared slightly more solemn. "He's slightly dehydrated but not as malnourished as he could've been. His captor clearly took care of him to some extend until this final attack. There were altogether ten stab wounds all over his body and they did a number of damage, which is why he needed a emergency surgery and a blood transfusion. His finger was also cut off in a far from sterile manner, which is why he got an infection that requires a heavy dosage of antibiotics. But unless there are complications there should be no immediate threat to his life. We'll keep him in ICU for a day or two, just in case, before he's transferred to a ward under Dr. O'Malley's care." The woman's eyes softened. "He'll have quite a bit of scars – Foyet wasn't exactly gentle. A plastic surgeon can be consulted for those when Dr. Reid's recovered a little bit. He may also want to visit a dental surgeon. But…" She smiled again. "Yes, he should be alright in time."

Derek had to catch his breath for a moment before managing to ask. "Can I see him?"

The doctor seemed to notice something. Surprisingly it didn't bother him, not with the look that appeared into her eyes. "Of course, as soon as he's out of the recovery room. I'll send a nurse to get you as soon as he's allowed visitors." Apparently she chose to ignore the 'family only' rule. She gave him and William a stern look. "But he needs rest, so don't overwhelm him. Understood?"

Derek nodded like a good, obedient child, all too aware of the grin playing on his lips.

As he sat there, waiting, Derek realized that for the first time since meeting Spencer he wasn't scared. It felt damn good.

* * *

><p>When Spencer was a child William used to stare at him every single night for the longest time. It was almost amusing that he found himself doing the same thing now, as he stood behind the window separating him from his son's hospital room.<p>

They said that his son would pull through, no matter how frail the young man looked at the moment, in a hospital bed wearing far too big clothes, his face ghostly pale. They said that his son was a fighter.

He'd known that much long since.

The voice caught him so off guard that he shivered. "They told me that you got Foyet good." There was a strange expression on Erin Strauss' face. "Wouldn't less than ten shots have done the trick?"

_He had to stab ten times to bring my son down_, he almost spat in response. Instead, however, he shrugged. "You know what Foyet was like. What do you think?"

Erin said nothing right away, instead focused her eyes on Spencer. William did the same thing. The silence between them was almost companionable.

"Just so you know… Your superior asked me to write a report on your actions. He expressed… a great deal of worry considering your state of mind." She glanced towards him before going on. "As far as I'm concerned the only thing I've seen is self defence. You only did what was necessary to take down a dangerous, wanted criminal."

William felt like smiling as he nodded, hoping that the soundless 'Thank you' would do.

They stood there in silence for a long time, both content with their own thoughts.

* * *

><p>Derek had absolutely no idea of how long he'd been sitting in Spencer's room, reading a sports magazine although he barely managed to understand a word, until in the early hours of the morning there was the faintest of sounds. Alarmed, he turned his head just in time to see Spencer shift with an expression of discomfort.<p>

He swallowed, fighting against the temptation of taking the younger man's hand into his. "Spencer? Are you awake?"

Very slowly, cautiously, Spencer's eyes fluttered open. The man appeared confused for a moment and licked his lips before speaking in a quiet, raspy tone. "This… isn't a dream, right?"

Derek couldn't help but chuckle at that. He shook his head. "No, Pretty Boy. This isn't." His stinging eyes then narrowed. "Don't _ever_ scare me like that again, got that?" _Don't ever make me fear that I've lost you again._

Spencer gave him a tiny, lopsided smile, then grimaced and brought a hand to where a stab wound most likely irritated him. "I'll try not to", the younger man promised earnestly.

Derek frowned, feeling helpless as he saw the other's obvious pain. "Should I get a nurse, or something?"

Spencer shook his head. This time the smile that came wasn't laced by pain. Instead there was cautious hope and something that looked suspiciously lot like fear. "I… don't want any more medication. Just… stay. Please?"

There was no way Derek could've ever denied those eyes, that desperate request. And before his head caught up with his actions he was already moving. Careful not to hurt Spencer and not to disturb the tubes the younger man was connected to he lowered the bed's other railing, then slipped in. Spencer's eyes widened with shock for a moment until the man melted into the most beautiful smile Derek had ever seen.

Not giving a damn about the fears and uncertanties still lingering Derek lay down and wrapped one arm around Spencer, then pulled the brunet as close to him as humanly possible, inhaling the familiar scent.

He'd almost lost this man – this chance. Perhaps that was what gave him the courage to whisper the words that should've been spoken long ago. "I really missed you."

Spencer didn't speak. Instead the younger man snuggled just a little bit closer to him although it must've hurt, leaning his head against his shoulder. Derek blinked twice when Spencer took his hand all of a sudden, guiding it to where the genius' heart was beating firmly. Then he understood, and smiled.

Spencer didn't manage to stay awake for long. Feeling the younger man fall asleep beside him Derek remained firm, waiting, guarding. For the first time in his adult life he felt completely, utterly content. Whole.

He wondered if he should tell Spencer that when the man woke up.

Letting exhaustion take over him at last, Derek gave Spencer's hair a gentle kiss before closing his eyes and relaxing completely against the brunet. Never once did their hands lose the firm hold they'd had since he lay down.

There was a smile on Derek's face as he slept on, for once not caring about the troubled waters that were without a doubt waiting in the horizon.

* * *

><p>In Spencer's dreams Foyet was smiling at him, a bloodied knife held in his hand. The steel pierced his flesh time after time, each hit striking deeper and deeper.<p>

'_Shh… Just relax and it'll all go much more smoothly. Relax and breathe._'

Spencer screamed at the top of his lungs. Darkness swallowed him up in whole. Darkness and such cold he'd never experienced before.

And then Foyet was gone.

Instead he felt Derek's hand, squeezing his with such a hold that told the man would never, ever let go of him again.

The dark disappeared. Instead he was wrapped into warmth and light.

The light turned into a sea of white. And suddenly his eyes were wide open.

Derek was looking at him with apparent worry, holding him as tightly as possible without irritating his injuries. "Spencer? Are you awake now?"

Spencer stared at the agent unblinkedly for a moment, then breathed twice before nodding slowly. "Yeah…", he whispered, finally managing to blink twice. "I think I am."

Derek seemed to relax slightly. "Good. That looked like one hell of a nightmare."

The both glanced downwards and Spencer felt sick to his stomach at what he found. There was blood on the bedsheets, some still leaking from the back of his hand. Derek had his own hand clasped on the wound without the slightest bit of fear. Such trust made Spencer shiver despite the state his mind and body were in.

"You pulled off your I.V.", Derek explained in a soft tone, one finger rubbing soothing circles to the bloodied hand.

Spencer looked at the dark skinned man long and hard before finally managing to put into words what was spinning in his head. "Derek… You don't have to be here, you know?" He tried to offer a brave smile but had a feeling that it failed. "I mean… Look at me." He gestured first towards his stomach and chest, then towards his head. "It's going to take a lot of time before this mess is sorted out. You don't need to…"

Derek cut him off with slamming a pair of soft, warm lips against his and pulling him into a deep, hungry kiss that stole away absolutely all his breath. Once the kiss was over the agent leaned to his ear and whispered. "I'm not leaving you, Spencer."

For a moment or two Spencer simply stared, then nodded slowly. "'K."

Derek nodded back with a hint of a smile. "Okay."

Spencer opened his mouth but became cut off by the sound of someone clearing their throat nervously. Looking to side like they'd been caught doing something forbidden they found William Reid standing right outside the room with a nearly anxious look on his face.

The older Reid ran a hand through his hair. "I… was wondering if it's alright to come in, and ask how you're doing."

Spencer looked at his father for the longest time before nodding cautiously. "Sure. Come in." Not too long ago he would've thrown his father out without batting an eyelash. Now he saw the naked despair in the older man's eyes.

A near death experience teaches a person a lot.

Feeling like he was intruding Derek left the bed hurriedly, heat taking over his cheeks. He couldn't help wondering how much William had seen. "I'm… gonna go and call Garcia, to let her know what's going on." He looked at Spencer pointedly. "I'll be back soon."

The faint, trust filled smile he received in return spoke more than anything else.

What Derek couldn't possibly know upon leaving the hospital room was that two pairs of eyes observed him from not too far away.

Aaron and David had been about to visit Spencer to tell him that Foyet was gone, only to discover that the room was crowded. Not they had thoughtful looks on their faces as they watched the dark skinned agent walking away.

"When are you going to tell him that he'll be questioned on his connections to '_Desert Coyotees_'?" David inquired.

Aaron took a breath. "I'll give him a few more hours." He shrugged. "It's not like they'd discover much, though. If they're still digging Elle's case they'll have to remember that she's been dead for a long time, now."

David gave him a look but said nothing. Silence hung between them.

As soon as Derek made it out of the hospital he opened his cell phone. There was a text message from a number he couldn't recognize.

'_It's all up to Ellie now. I hope you found what you were looking for._

_We're even. Take good care of yourself._

_-E_'

Derek too a deep breath while he deleted the message and switched off the phone, his eyes softening slightly before he closed them. A warm breath of air caressed his face.

It was a wind of change. What it whispered, he'd find out when the times was right.

With a sigh Derek opened his eyes. This time there was no haunted look in them. As he walked back into the hospital he didn't look back on the shadows sneaking on his tails.

He was done with looking back.

* * *

><p>TBC, for an epilogue.<p>

* * *

><p>AN: Oh boy… (blinks several times) I proofread those scenes with Morgan and Reid listening to 'Far Away' (Nickelback) and 'Dare You to Move' (Switchfoot). I can't even begin to explain it, but something… shivered inside me. Getting to write such serene scenes after the hell they've been through felt so, so good. And I guess I'm starting to process the fact that soon this story will be all over. (wipes eyes, lower lip quivering) Whatever the cause, it was WEIRD. Usually I don't feel much while writing or reading my own products, period. (Go on ahead and profile.)

Did ya guys feel anything, at all – good or bad? **PLEASE**, leave a review to let me know! I've got a lot of Easter chocolate to sweeten the deal… (winks)

IN THE VERY FINAL PIECE (gosh, it feels weird to write that!): Several loose ends are wrapped together – and new stories begin while this tale encloses. Will our favorite couple get to taste some happiness?

Until next time, folks! I REALLY hope I'll c ya with the final piece.

Take care!

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><p><strong>ilsa<strong>: Emotional, no? (wipes eyes) We'll see where it goes from here…

Huge thank yous for the review!


	20. Outro

A/N: It's time to bring this story to an end. (sighs and wipes eyes) I still can't believe it! I'm sorry it took me some time to post this but I've been insanely busy lately. (winces)

BUT, first… Thank you so much for all those reviews! (GLOMPS) You guys sure know how to inspire an author.

Awkay… (takes a breath) I'm always nervous when it comes to finishing a story so I'm just jumping right in. I REALLY hope you'll enjoy the final bit!

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><p>Outro<p>

* * *

><p><em>Four Years Later<em>

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><p>It was fortunate that Derek didn't expect miracles on Spencer's recovery. That he was prepared for the long road ahead of the genius. In a way it was a good thing that he was suspended the entire time while his actions before and during his confrontation with Ellie Spicer were examined.<p>

He was there for Spencer when the younger man was finally discharged from the hospital.

He was there when Spencer found out that the infection his cut off finger caused was so bad that he'd never, ever play violin again.

He was there when Spencer couldn't sleep for an entire week. During night number eight they finally had a talk that resulted to the brunet believing that he wasn't losing his mind even if he needed therapy.

He was there when Spencer came home from his first therapy session and started hyperventilating as the revived memories got too much.

He was also there when Spencer was finally ready to take their relationship to the next level. This time they were careful not to take things backwards. Their first official date took them to a tiny restaurant Derek had never tried before. As they spent the night in a hospital, recovering from a food poisoning, they told each other 'I love you' for the first time. It was also decided that Spencer wouldn't go into his own apartment from the hospital.

That night was now over three years into past. And a while ago Derek had reached the conclusion that as satisfied as he was with their current life, it was time to move forward.

It was now two weeks, nine hours and seventeen minutes from when he'd finally found the perfect ring. A beautiful, white gold ring that had some leaves engraved to it. Since then he'd been gathering the courage for tonight.

It looked like he wasn't the only one of them nervous. He watched with a tiny smile how Spencer tapped his foot while finishing a phone call with William. "Yeah, I will. I'll talk to you tomorrow. Bye." In a moment the brunet hung up, looking towards him. There was a great deal of nervousness in the younger man's eyes. "Dad told me to say 'hi'."

_Dad, not William_, Derek observed. He smiled. "Right back at him." He then offered his partner a hand. "Ready to go?"

Spencer nodded, looking even more nervous than before, and took his hand without any hesitation. "Yeah, let's go before we'll lose the reservation."

Trying to chase away the somersaults in his own stomach, Derek leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Spencer's forehead. He loved the way the other man leaned closer to him. "Just so you know… You look really hot in a tuxedo", he whispered to his lover's ear.

Spencer looked even better with the blush that appeared to his usually pale cheeks.

During the first half of the drive Derek was too nervous to say pretty much a word. He barely even noticed the red light before it was too late.

He was brought out of his thoughts by Spencer's slightly unsteady voice. "I… was supposed to wait until the restaurant, but…" The man trailed off.

Flashes of how nervous his companion had been all day speeding through his head, Derek frowned and focused on the younger man. Spencer appeared even paler than usual. "Hey, what's wrong?" His voice was laced by worry but he didn't even notice.

Spencer swallowed laboriously, finally looking back at him. "There's… something I need to tell you."

The traffic light changed from red to green ten times before the vehicle moved.

* * *

><p>Aaron Hotchner was infamous from how early he was at work every single day. That morning he appeared even earlier than usual. When the team appeared to work Erin Strauss was with him in his office. "I just went through a war to make this happen. You'd better be sure about this", she stated, observing the group settling in.<p>

Aaron nodded. He was well aware of the possible complications, of the risks. But he stood firmly behind his decision. "I am."

The two of them watched how Derek walked in with a clearly troubled look on his face, how Emily approached the man with a frown and obviously asked what was wrong.

Deciding that Derek wasn't the one who needed to make this revelation, Aaron exchanged a one more glance with Erin before they walked out of his office and made their way to the team. They frowned at the look on his face, especially once noticing that Erin was with him. They'd grown used to the thought that her presence rarely promised anything good.

"What's… going on?" Emily was the brave one to ask.

Aaron tried not to look towards Derek, instead focused on David who gave him a nod of encouragement. He took a breath before looking at the whole team. "As you all now, we'll be one agent down when Dave retires in two weeks. I've finally chosen with Strauss who will fill in that position. He'll start today, so he'll be able to get a full briefing before he's an official, active member of the team."

JJ raised one eyebrow. None of them had expected the successor to be found this fast. "So… Who is he?"

Aaron felt a quite uncharacteristic smile tugging the corners of his lips. "You've already met him, actually. Strauss has approved with my choice after interviewing him carefully and considering the possible risks. He has special talents both Strauss and I consider useful. He also has a unique perspective to our UnSubs due to a personal connection he had with one of the most dangerous serial killers we've faced."

Emily's eyes widened, as did JJ's. "No way…!" the brunette sputtered.

But sure enough, a very familiar person entered the room with slow, hesitant steps.

Spencer gave them a slightly awkward smile. "Uh… Hi."

For a long moment Emily could only stare at the genius. "When the heck did you get academy training?" she finally asked.

Spencer responded with a tiny, awkward grin. "I… had four years?" was the best the brunet got.

Penelope and JJ seemed to know exactly what to do. Before Spencer had the slightest chance to see it coming the women had given him long, crushing hugs.

"Oh, sweetie, if anyone has to fill Rossi's shoes I'm glad it's you", Penelope declared with utmost sincerity.

JJ, on the other hand, flashed the young man a smile. "Welcome to the family, Spence."

Spencer returned the smile with a equally bright one. "Thanks."

Aaron's face softened while he watched Spencer being welcomed, but his expression faltered slightly when his eyes spotted Derek. There was a look of worry and anxiety on the dark skinned man's face. The eyes that met his briefly held a hint of accusation.

Aaron knew that accepting Spencer to the team broke several protocols, including fraternization rules. But he also knew that it was the best possible decision he could've made.

He could only hope and pray that one day Derek would understand that as well.

* * *

><p>As soon as the worst chaos settled Spencer sneaked away from the others. It hadn't slipped from his attention that Derek had left the room almost as soon as he'd been announced as the newest teammember. He knew that it was high time they had a proper talk.<p>

It wasn't all that hard to find Derek from the building's rooftop. He frowned with a great deal of distaste upon discovering that the other was smoking. "I thought you were over that habit by now", he mused out loud.

Derek's eyes were far from pleasant as they turned towards him. "Are _you_ honestly giving _me_ a lecture? _Now_?"

Spencer winced. Apparently there was even more repairing to do than he'd imagined. "Derek…"

Derek wasn't ready to listen. The man's eyes narrowed. "You… You go and hide something like that from me. You should've told me!"

Spencer sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I tried to", he pointed out honestly. "But… There never seemed to be a good time. Something always got in the way – your job, my mom's episodes…" He chewed his lower lip, which was a nervous habit he hadn't had since childhood. "Besides, it began long before we got together." Like that would've been a proper excuse.

Derek's eyes widened slightly. "What?"

Spencer chewed his lip again, wondering if it was really a good idea to reveal this. "Hotch and dad… They had a talk with me in Vegas, back then ages ago. They told me that I'd done a good job on those clues the Reaper left. They told me that I had a lot of good qualities – that I had potential, even though I'd never even held a gun." He breathed in and out, loudly. "You have no idea how scared I was. I wanted to tell you and mom, but…" He trailed off, the following words stinging like acid.

Little by little the look in Derek's expression softened, the flames of wrath dying from the man's eyes. "I'll forgive you, Spencer. Just this once. But don't _ever_ keep secrets like this from me again, got that?"

"I won't", Spencer swore, his chest feeling just a little bit less tight.

Derek nodded. This time naked terror was loudly visible in the man's eyes. "And just so you know… If you ever get into a trouble I'm getting you a leash and a micro chip."

Finally Spencer managed to smile. He took Derek's hand, held on tight. "I can't promise you anything, Derek. You know life isn't that simple. But I do know that you're the most important person to me in this world. So…" He took a breath. "As long as you want to hold on to us… We'll take each day we've got together. How does that sound?"

Very slowly Derek melted into a smile of his own and nodded. The man wrapped one arm around him and pulled him close, as though never wanting to let go. "Hmm."

Feeling more calm than he had in ages Spencer leaned his head against his lover's forehead, letting his eyes close halfway. Neither of them noticed the torrential rain.

The world felt whole once more.

"Well…", Spencer breathed out after the silence had lasted for good fifteen minutes. He shivered slightly from cold and something else entirely. "Now that that's been talked through…" He licked his lips, very pleased when Derek pulled him even closer. "What are you going to do with that ring you've been hiding around?"

Derek only smiled.

* * *

><p>Ellie Spicer hated Paris. There were, however, certain things in there that weren't completely unpleasant.<p>

She didn't shiver or fight back, didn't even open her eyes, when she felt a hand on her naked body, along with burning hot lips searching through every single inch of her. She didn't resist even when the hand and lips focused on the numerous scars on her torso, paying particular attention to the four years old gunshot wounds.

They were her battle scars. Marks of the price she'd paid to leave the ghosts of past to rest.

The man beside her knew every single one of the marks on her body, including the story behind the tattoo she'd gotten as soon as she'd been strong enough after getting shot. The man didn't know Derek's name but he did know that the series of numbers were from the badge of someone who had a great role in her past.

Sometimes Ellie amused herself with wondering if Derek guessed that she still had his badge. That whenever the hunger became too much she looked at it, imagining, planning. Like a recovering drug addict eyeing a syringe. She craved, hellishly.

But she had new priorities, now.

Her hand followed instinctively as he caressed the clearly visible bulge of her stomach. "He's kicking like a champion tonight", he commented.

She arched an eyebrow, turning towards him and letting herself drown into his eyes. "'He'?"

Ian Doyle smiled and gave her a kiss. She consented gladly when his body soon asked for something much more.

The first time they shared a bed was half an hour after they first saw each other. The found each other during the hottest of summers on the edge of a crowded market place in Mexico. She'd been running away from the voices whispering inside her head. He'd been doing the same thing. She'd never wanted anyone else since.

To this day she wasn't sure if they were one another's heaven or hell. She didn't even care. She only felt truly alive with him. It didn't matter that she knew he'd done things she couldn't imagine even in her worst nightmares. They'd seen each other at their best and worst. They'd kill and die for each other. That was more than enough.

"I think we should get married."

Those words stunned Ellie for the longest moment. She looked at him with an arched eyebrow. "I thought you didn't believe in official commitments."

Doyle shrugged. "I want Declan to have a family when he's born." He kissed her stomach with utmost affection and the unborn child inside her replied with a furious kick. "But first… There are some old friends I need to visit."

* * *

><p><strong><em>End.<em>**

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><p>AN: Gosh… I can't believe that it's over! (chokes a little)

One story became wrapped up, and another seems to stir. Our favorite couple is finally together AND Reid's right where he belongs. (grins)

**PLEASE**, let me know your thoughts on this finishing piece! You can't even imagine how much it'd mean to me. (gives puppy's eyes)

THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart, for sticking with this story! It's been a long ride and several times I've felt like giving up. It's you and your love that kept this alive. So THANK YOU! (GLOMPS) You guys are truly the best, ya know?

I'm off to new challenges now. Once again, thank you! I really hope I'll keep seeing ya guys around.

Take care!

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><p><strong>ilsa<strong>: Aww! (hugs and offers tissues) I'm somewhat flattered to hear I've managed to make you feel, though.

'Hope you'll enjoy the final bit!

Gigantic thank yous for the review!

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><p><strong>Nicolethecrazyone<strong>: Hooray! 'Glad to hear you think so. (beams)

I really, truly hope you'll enjoy the final bit as well.

Huge thank yous for the review!


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